Incomplete
by Symphonic Silence
Summary: Snippets of the story of how Garrus came to know his commander and the inevitable fall that would follow.
1. Red Tape

**A/N: This story is _very_ unfinished. It's highlights of the bits that I had written. Around chapter 12/13 or so, there are huge gaps of time that were skipped over because I never wrote the rest of it. I know I'm not going to finish this story - I have too many other obligations to tend to. But I _did_ like what I had written, and it seemed a shame to keep them stored on my computer forever. It's always my hope that at least one other person will get some sort of enjoyment out of what I've written, which is why I'm sharing this unfinished tale in the first place.  
**

 **Please excuse the lack of a full polish and the gaps in time where things aren't fully explained.**

 **As always, I really hope you enjoy _something_ out of all these words. Please feel free to leave a review with your thoughts or comments - I read everything, and always appreciate what others have to say!**

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A pristine room inside the Citadel Security offices, totally void of any clutter and personalization, was currently getting a makeover.

Only moments ago he had been the epitome of serenity as he took calculated steps through his office door. The door had slid shut with a barely-audible click, and even then he had managed to retain some sense of self. He took in several deep breaths, chanted a random mantra he had learned during his time in the military, clenched and unclenched his fists to try and keep his cool…but something inside of him snapped despite his efforts, and very soon after he found himself tearing through his desk to find anything and everything that wouldn't break if thrown. He then made it a personal goal to find a way to bust the goddamn things in any conceivable way possible.

He wasn't predisposed to this sort of outrage. These childish tantrums were beneath him, he knew that, but today could be a special exception.

So many years of frustration in a dead-end job that weighed him down with all its red tape and paperwork just to help pay medical bills, so many months of following a hunch that Saren was dirty despite nobody believing him, so many months of _trying,_ and now, because he ran out of time, none of it mattered. He had the cat in the bag with this one, as all the humans working at C-Sec said, but he had taken too long and the stupid feline had clawed its way out. _Again._

Minutes of attempted destruction passed before a sudden thought paralyzed him. It wasn't over 'til it was over, right? If he could convince the Councilor to wait, even for a day, then surely he could get his job done. There was no doubt in his mind that another twenty-four hours would guarantee his success. It would guarantee that maybe this job could do some good after all; maybe he could rein in some of the bad guys, for a change. If it meant saving his sanity, saving the little faith he had left in Citadel Security, then surely it must be worth a shot?

Confident steps had him out of his office in seconds, leaving behind a mess of paperwork and bad memories in the hopes of doing some real good. He knew he shouldn't hold his breath – nothing ever seemed to work out the way he wanted it to with these high-profile cases – but there was a firm belief inside him that Saren would be brought to justice, that Garrus would be proven right about the Spectre's crooked ways, and that the Turian race in general could prove that they weren't as idiotic as Garrus was starting to believe they were.

But, twenty minutes later, he found that he placed too much confidence in his _feelings_. He was shot down by Pallin; his request for more time fell on deaf and unwilling ears. Of course the damn executor wouldn't give Garrus more time – Pallin might as well have been Saren's bitch for the way this bastard defended him.

A fist formed without him realizing it, and by the time Pallin told him that his investigation was over Garrus wasn't so sure that he could withhold the sudden urge to deck the smarmy piece of shit down. To his credit, he managed to withhold his urges for two seconds longer than he thought possible, giving Pallin the needed time to turn his back and walk away before his face got beaten in.

Another long, slow exhale. _Damn. Almost lost it._

Then again, who could blame him? Years spent in this job and he had relatively little to show for it. Sure, he'd tracked down some criminals and drug smugglers, a couple slavers here and there, but they were all petty crimes compared to others he was in charge of. For all those big cases, he had few arrests to show for it, and not because of any failures on his part. No, the blame laid solely with C-Sec and their inability to act in a timely and effective manner; how they stalled for these wealthy or well-known people, dancing around the issue so that they wouldn't land their asses in hot water.

Damn it all, C-Sec was supposed to provide security for the people and instead it had to act like a political entity!

A strange sensation, like eyes were watching the back of his head, made Garrus acutely aware that he was not alone here. He turned his head slightly to the right and noticed that three humans stood there, watching him with curious expressions.

He turned to gawk back, hoping to make them uncomfortable so they'd leave him to his smoldering rage, but as his eyes scanned the figures before him a few things began to click.

There were two women and one man, all human, but the woman at the front was the one capturing his attention right now. She wasn't as tall as the other two, her posture wasn't as hostile, her body looked like that of a young but highly muscular boy, and yet her stance still screamed of confidence. A once-straight nose crinkled with her curving mouth; the scar across her lips stretched thin when she grinned at him and his ill-concealed fury.

This woman was none other than Commander Shepard: the one who brought forth the accusations against Saren, the one that helped to confirm Garrus' suspicion that something just wasn't right with that Spectre. Shepard was the one who made his months of off-duty investigating come to a head, the one who made it all seem worthwhile while it lasted.

Opportunities were something that he was always able to sense and this one was simply too good to be true. He leaped at his chance, explaining the situation in a calm that belied his growing frustrations and anxieties. Maybe _he_ couldn't do anything, but that didn't matter at the moment. Right now he wanted to see some justice get served to that sneaky son-of-a-bitch turian that felt he was above the law, and his only chance to do so stood before him wearing a cloak of careful indifference.

He knew that humans were determined creatures when their mind was focused on the task. All Garrus could hope for was that this woman was as determined as he was to bring Saren in to pay for his crimes.

"Maybe they'll listen to you," he said, cringing at the inflection of hope that had edged into his voice.

She gave an absent sigh and didn't say anything for several moments. Garrus couldn't deny that he was uncomfortable – he felt the sharp scrutiny of a dull green gaze, one that held more weight than an asari matriarch's.

Whatever she had been looking for must have been found because, after giving him an understanding nod, her eyes pivoted away from Garrus and looked up towards where the Council waited. A small groan escaped through parched lips before she jerked her head towards the stairs. "This is why I'm not a politician," she muttered darkly to her crew. "Too much red tape just to tell me to go kill somebody. I know how to get a goddamn job done."

The human male to Shepard's left smirked and the woman to the right could barely contain a snort of laughter. "Shit's about to hit the fan with the Councilors, eh?" the woman said as the three marched forward. Whatever Shepard's reply may have been was lost to Garrus as the distance between them increased, but the chorus of laughter that belonged to her followers did not escape his hearing.

Some small semblance of satisfaction embedded itself in his mind: somebody understood his frustration. Whether it be with politics or being shackled from getting the job done, in those few short moments that human woman seemed to express more empathy for Garrus than most others had during his career. It was hard to explain, really – many of those he worked with had voiced their objections to how C-Sec was run, but Shepard's eyes seemed to convey something that the others didn't.

A true, working knowledge of how useless the system really was?

He wasn't sure, but it gave him something to think about as he plodded down to the Wards. Maybe the system _was_ pathetic in its own right. If that was the case, then perhaps it was time to leave the old ways behind and go about things in his own unique fashion.

 _Yeah,_ he thought, his fingers resting comfortably on his pistol. _Time to start doing things my way. Time to get the job done._


	2. Welcome Aboard

She certainly had a flair for the dramatic.

He didn't know what made her come to the clinic when she did, but he wasn't going to complain about her good timing. Her entry provided the necessary distraction, and in less than two seconds he had his pistol up and readied, his sights lined up, and had unloaded a bullet into the hostage-takers brain. What ensued was an intense firefight by Citadel standards, but Shepard proved to be a battlemaster on the field.

Her tactical expertise was something any Turian could admire, as was the precision of her bullets, but it was the fluidity with which she crossed the battlefield that he would think of later, after the fight was done. In addition to being mechanically precise, she was graceful for someone of her species. The humans he typically worked with in C-Sec seemed to be either robots with their movements or just plain clumsy, but it wasn't so in this instance.

Not once did she come out of cover at the wrong time. She patiently waited until the gunshots died before charging forward, skipping to the side and out of the way fractions of a second before her opponent would rise out of his cover to shoot at where she had been. Like a ghost she would appear out of nowhere and place a bullet exactly where it needed to go, not wasting a single shell in a low-class fight like this, before ducking behind cover to make her next move.

Garrus figured she was solely a pistol-wielder at heart but was pleasantly surprised when she got a little too close to the last man standing and punched him square in the face. She watched him fall to the ground writhing in pain with a scientific detachment, cocking her head curiously as blood sprayed from his nose like a geyser.

"I had no idea that actually happens," she said with some amusement, ignoring the gore, death, and bloodshed around her. "I always figured it was poetic license or something…but it really _is_ like Old Faithful."

The doctor, still huddled over in fear, looked over her hands in something akin to horror at Shepard's statement.

Garrus, however, decided that this fiery redhead was already his new favorite human.

"Commander," the male human that traveled with Shepard began, "I'm guessing there's a reason for this guy's, ah…survival?"

"Officer Vakarian might want this one for questioning." She looked up at Garrus, a brow quirked in a playful manner. He wasn't sure if he should chuckle at the expression or worry about the sanity of the Commander – such an expression on a face smeared with the blood of others created an interesting effect. "You _do_ want him for questioning, right?"

He thought about it for a full second before shrugging. "That would require a lot more paperwork than I'm willing to file."

"And a lot of red tape," she nodded to him in assent, the lamplights capturing the copper tint of her nearly non-existent fringe. Without hesitation she lifted her pistol again, aiming at the downed and still-bleeding scum beneath her who was whimpering in fear and pain. With a crooked smile she addressed him. "I know what you're thinking," she stated slowly, her voice teasing and lilting, "'did she fire twelve shots or only eleven?' Well, to tell you the truth, in all this excitement I kind of lost track myself-"

"Commander!" The male interjected, taking a step forward with a concerned scowl. A glare from Shepard stopped him cold.

Hard eyes studied the male before they rolled back into her head. She tucked her gun into its holster on her back with an irritated thrust. "Goddammit, Alenko. Are you always so _noble_ and _good_ about everything? Do you have no sense of fun?"

The one called Alenko seemed confused. "'Fun', ma'am?"

She pointed to the corpses on the floor, counting each bullet she had put into each criminal. "These bastards plus the ones from earlier equal twelve, which means I've already fired twelve shots today, Alenko. My clip is officially empty. Nobody was going to die." She glanced around at all the dead bodies and another odd smile ghosted over her lips. "Well, _he_ wasn't going to die just then, anyway." She shook her head and sighed, reload bullets, muttering all the while. "I've always wanted to use that damn line, and you go and blow it to hell…"

Alenko's mouth unhinged, preparing a retort, but a gloved hand flew up into the air, palm out, signaling for him to stop. "Don't make me pull my rank on you, Alenko. I will. It won't be pretty."

The male's eyes danced with an amused light that was juxtaposed to the hard concern he wore earlier. Garrus noticed that this expression was shared by Shepard.

 _Interesting._

"What the hell is _wrong_ with you people?"

Everybody turned to see the doctor standing, her face pale as she alternated an accusing and mortified glare between the other humans present. Garrus, for his part, had at least been trying to help the woman stand for the past five minutes so he was spared from her deceivingly justified outrage.

The friendly, easy-going nature of the Commander shifted quickly and in the blink of an eye she was less than a foot away from the doctor, her eyes unbreakably hard. "I just brought my squad in here and saved your ass, lady." She let that sink in. "You have information that we want and, unless I'm mistaken, we just earned the right to hear it."

Garrus held up a hand to separate Shepard and the doctor, wondering what prompted the sudden change in attitude. He didn't understand humans too well yet, so maybe it had something to do with their species, but either way it was clear that Shepard's tactics weren't going to work with Doctor Michel. A few minutes passed before the Doctor was calmed enough by Garrus to be considered reasonable and it was only at that point that Garrus turned her over to Shepard for questioning. Shepard, on her part, dug for the information she wanted in a no-nonsense manner that some would consider rude, a manner that was very different from the playfulness she exuded during the high of battle. Michel, seemingly wanting to be rid of Shepard, answered all the questions in a crisp, curt manner that probably saved them a lot of time.

Afterwards, it didn't take Garrus long to convince Shepard that he needed to bring Saren down and that he needed to go with her to do so. All she had to do was ask why he hated Saren and after a short outburst on his part, she just nodded with that wily grin on her face again.

"Welcome aboard, Garrus."


	3. Political Bull

Several weeks had passed since his recruitment but the strangeness of serving on a human vessel had not yet waned. Everything was foreign and alien, some things outright confused him, and he found that he needed to ask a lot of questions to get everything straight. Doing so made him feel like a child since his inquiries made him seem all the more like a fool to the human crew. Common phrases that the humans used made little to no sense to him and clarification was usually needed on his part. He had to ask what the odd, high-pitched noises were that he heard but none ever had any idea what he was talking about. The beds were not the right length, the doors a different height, there was no good food for him or Tali, and even the damned toilets were made for midgets.

Eventually he got tired of asking the normal crew his questions and instead chose to remain silent until Shepard came around, which she did on a daily basis. He would then barrage her with all the new things he had taken in, question her with the meanings and nuances of human speech, ask what certain facial expressions meant, and queried how humans even managed to function with all that soft flesh and lack of hard tissue. She took his curiosity in stride, sometimes staying for well over an hour until he shared most of his troubles with her. She never minded and, almost as important, she rarely laughed at his absurdities and naivety but instead took the part of a mentor to the turian.

Being the student was a role that he grudgingly accepted at first and it had nothing to do with her race - he simply didn't like being in the lesser position, the weaker position. He was used to having power over others, having the power to intimidate and the power to arrest, but here he was at her mercy in almost every aspect. It bothered him for a time, made him feel weak and insecure, but as time passed it ceased to be so disconcerting and instead became part of the routine. Perhaps it was because he learned quickly and soon had fewer questions to ask and more to talk about. The only person who seemed especially eager to listen to him was Shepard.

She was a good listener, funny and sarcastic at times, but not the greatest conversationalist. She was quick-witted and intelligent, that was true, but she blatantly side-stepped any and all attempts to discuss her personal self. It was a shame, really, because she was a fascinating specimen of the human race.

Alenko seemed to think as much, too, only his fascination was less…clinical than Garrus'. Though the turian was relatively new to paying attention to human antics, he was still no fool. He noticed the ways that Alenko watched her, saw how his eyes would always land on the tight posterior of the Commander when she turned her back, saw how his eyes would light up whenever she entered the room. Kaidan nary said a word to most people on the _Normandy,_ preferring to keep to himself and his machines, but he always had a tale or five to spin for the Commander whenever she popped around to join him at the Officer's table for their meals.

He had to admit that he wished she would join _him_ at meal time. It was always an uncomfortable venture to the mess hall, and once there he could only hope that Wrex and Tali, or even Liara, were present to help alleviate the awkwardness of being the only alien in a sea of humans. He stood taller than the humans and more erect, he was proud of what he was, but that didn't stop the internal feelings of rejection whenever he saw the utter disdain that most of the crew held towards a member of his race. The First Contact War was still fresh in many minds, human and turian alike, and it became readily apparent that the humans' first alien foe was not welcome aboard this vessel, despite that same foe having helped build it.

Even when he retreated to his sanctuary below he was faced with similar judgment. Ashley would purposefully turn her back towards him whenever possible, ignoring him wholly no matter the situation. If she did have to look his way it was with an expression of cold fury that Garrus could barely grasp. _He_ hadn't fought in the war, and he most certainly hadn't been anything but polite to the Gunnery Chief. Why the hell was there such a huge chip on her shoulder?

So most of his time was spent in solitude repairing the _Mako_ , which was in a constant state of disrepair. Usually, soon after he had it fully functional again, Shepard would come down with a large grin and suggest taking it for a spin. Garrus would always groan out loud, much to Shepard's glee, and she would promptly suggest that he go with her.

It wouldn't have been so bad if she wasn't such a piss-poor driver. He told her as much, and that just egged her on all the more.

Alenko was certain she did it on purpose to watch her crew squirm. Garrus could see that being a possibility, but he could also see her enjoying the thrill of driving up the vertical face of a mountain and launching the _Mako_ off the edge _just_ to see if it could handle another round of abuse that would typically annihilate anything else.

She loved that damn vehicle. She was proud of it and its capabilities.

And she always complimented Garrus for fixing it up so nicely after she beat the shit out of it.

He grinned at the thought, finding it comical for a reason that he couldn't quite fathom, when the very person he had been thinking about peered around his shoulder at the vehicle in question.

"She ready for another go yet?" Shepard cooed from behind him.

"Spirits, Shepard, not already! My ass still hurts from last time!"

"Take it like a man, Garrus," she grunted, punching his shoulder with a friendly familiarity. "Anyway, I'm not taking it out now, so don't worry. Just stopping by to chat."

He leaned against the infamous vehicle, arms crossed over each other. "Shepard, if we keep meeting like this, Alenko's going to start suspecting things…"

"Don't worry, Vakarian: I already let him know that I only have eyes for you. No competition."

He gave a low chuckle and grabbed a wrench. "I never have competition."

She nodded absently as she sat atop a nearby table. As he worked, he became aware that her eyes had settled on him and hadn't moved. He told her to at least be useful if she was going to stand there and gawk, asked her to give him some of his tools, and she complied.

"Funny thing," Shepard said slowly, her voice a bit devious. Garrus, interested, looked over from his work to see a dry smile spreading over those odd human lips. "You mentioned competition? Kaidan seems to think that Liara is, ah…" her mouth struggled to form the word, but instead she waved the thought away and shrugged.

He knew what she was getting at – he was becoming rather skilled with guessing the ends of her thoughts, which was important since she often let a sentence drop. "Shepard, that asari wants to Embrace Eternity with you and everybody knows it."

"Don't tell me that!" It came out as a burst of nervous energy, one that had her twittering for a moment after. "If I have to go have 'the talk' with Liara just to set things straight…" she sighed audibly. "I'm not into women, Garrus, but if she cries on me then there is _no_ guarantee that I won't end up in her bed out of pity."

"Asari aren't even technically female, and everybody likes asari-"

"Don't give me that 'technical' stuff, Vakarian. They've got all the right female bits and they call their kids 'daughters'. Besides," she pointed two thumbs at her chest, "this human asshole doesn't like asari: if she goes for an alien, it's gotta be a turian. Or a krogan," she added, biting her lip and glancing over at Wrex unabashedly.

Wrex seemed to have been paying attention. "It's the scars," he said with a shrug.

"Or the quad," Garrus added under his breath, just loud enough for Shepard to hear. They exchanged a glance and cackled like two pre-pubescent teens.

Before he had met her, such an act would have been a rare occurrence. How could he laugh when he was so bogged down by the politics of his job, the reality of why he held it, and his desperate desire to be rid of it to do things his own way? He had been so stuck in his misery for the past years that he had never taken much time to try and find the fun that life had to offer.

And here, in the middle of a hellish fight for the survival of the galaxy, he was able to find a friend that was more than capable of getting a few laughs out of the otherwise business-oriented turian.

Shepard was looking at him with a quirked brow, a sure sign that she found something vastly amusing and he had missed out on it. "What?" he asked, shaking his thoughts away.

"I asked if you liked asari, since you claim everybody else does. You were spacing out, so I figured you were…lost in memories."

"Oh." Garrus rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment. "I've spent enough time standing guard outside of Chorra's Den to know what the asari are capable of. I don't know if that's why I don't find them as…fascinating as others do, or maybe I'm just not into aliens, but no. Asari don't do much for me."

She nodded several times. "Only turian women for you, then?" She handed him a screwdriver when she was prompted. "What are they like, anyway?"

A little sigh escaped him before he wiped his brow. "You're not really interested in hearing about turian women, are you? Most humans can't tell the difference between the females and young males of my species anyway, so—"

"You're kidding." Shepard's eyebrows shot towards the ceiling. "Your males and females look that much alike?"

"It's not like human genders are all that different," Garrus countered, running to the defense of his race. "When I see a male and female human in full battle regalia, I can't figure out which is which."

"The obvious bosom of my armor isn't obvious enough, I take it?"

"Shepard, I have no idea what a 'bosom' is. So, no, I guess it's not that obvious."

The two of them chuckled and continued with a few more minutes of teasing before they settled into an easy silence, one that was only punctured by Garrus' occasional shifts in weight and fiddling with tools. Out of his peripheral vision he saw Shepard's eyes darken, her gaze distant, and Garrus could only guess at what she was envisioning.

But he could take a shot. Who knows – maybe it'd get him somewhere? Perhaps one small, innocent question could shed some light on the confusing thought processes of this odd creature that sat before him.

"Worried about Noveria?"

A strange expression flitted across her face, one that he didn't recognize and didn't have enough time to process. Once he concentrated on her face hard enough to try, the look was gone and replaced by a stone wall that was impossible to read.

The sudden defense startled him. The vibrant hues of her eyes dulled, reminding Garrus of the first time they had met on the Citadel. He saw the hard lines on her forehead, around her eyes, and had to wonder yet again how much weight this woman carried on her shoulders.

But it all passed in a moment. She was all crooked grins and bursting confidence once more, acting as if no change had occurred.

Still, though, he couldn't shake the image of Shepard out of his mind. He couldn't ignore the hardness, the darkness he had witnessed. She had hid it well, that much was certain, but how long had it all been buried? Was it always there, simmering under the surface, hiding behind false grins and black humor?

Did Alenko know? Had he seen it, too? Or was Garrus the only one with quick enough reflexes to capture it in his sights?

In the end it wouldn't matter much. He could wonder about it for days but no amount of persistence on his part would ever have his questions answered. She may have been willing to get to know her crew, but usually most inquiries in the opposite direction were met with a professional blockade.

"Worried about Noveria?" she scoffed, "Garrus, in case you forgot, I'm Commander-fuckin'-Shepard. Everybody knows I don't get worried. I just kill things."

Even though he had known it'd be a long shot, it still sucked that it ended in failure.

With a well-hidden sigh Garrus conceded this point to Shepard. "You're damn good at your job, too."

She smirked ruefully. "I'm glad somebody appreciates my work." She sat quietly and processed her own thoughts for a moment before a burst of anger coursed through her; half a breath later she punched the table she sat on and leaned towards Garrus with flames in her eyes. "I've got humans who think I'm betraying my species and begging for scraps at the feet of the Council. I have aliens who think I'm still sucking the teat of the Alliance. No matter which way I turn, I don't do the right thing in the eyes of the Council…" her hands flew into the air in defeat. "I just want to blow up the bad guys, Garrus, not deal with this political bull."

Garrus could understand, to an extent, and told her as much. He mentioned his time at C-Sec, relayed his annoyance with how things were run and how politics never allowed him to do his job properly. He mentioned how the politicians always got in the way, how somebody else's money would get in the way, or how intentional dancing around on C-Sec's part would always keep him from bringing a criminal in.

It felt good to unload those burdens to somebody else, someone who understood how politics interfere with the greater good. She listened with great intensity, getting angry at all the right parts and cursing out the right people when the story prompted her to.

A better audience he couldn't have asked for.

Then he remembered that this wasn't about him, that he had at least been able to escape his job and the inner turmoil it caused him. She couldn't do the same. "Shepard, I know it doesn't help any, but, for what it's worth, I can see why both sides are running you around so much."

Her shoulders slumped over and her hand rubbed the short carpet of hair on her head. She eyed him with weary amusement. "They think I'm their bitch, don't they?"

 _Not what I was going to say, but probably just as true._

Garrus pretended to adjust a screw on the Mako as an excuse to hide his smirk. "Yeah. Definitely."


	4. Pity

Though she often would speak off-the-record with some of her crew and try her best to be more than just an officer and a Spectre, she still maintained a level of professionalism that was hard to criticize. She rarely, if ever, would go into detail about herself and never allowed her speech to indicate that she was unworthy of respect. To those who she didn't allow to get close she was a paragon of military excellence. She was unafraid of speaking her mind and doing everything possible to get things done. This was a relationship she had forged long ago with most members of her crew and she cared little to change it.

Some found Shepard to be a little _too_ intense. Between her no-nonsense way of getting a mission done or the fact that she was perfectly willing tell someone off if they were being dishonest or trying to kiss her ass, some often got nervous when she was around.

Alenko saw more of her free-spirited side than most, Garrus would agree to that, but it seemed that the aliens aboard the ship were the ones that got to see the rambunctious, trouble-making Shepard that Garrus was becoming accustomed to. He honestly couldn't say if it was that the aliens viewed her as "Shepard" instead of "Commander" or because they were fresh faces that she could enjoy but, either way, Garrus was glad that he didn't have to experience stick-up-her-ass Shepard like most of the humans on board did.

Perhaps humans were like the hanar, where they acted aloof towards strangers and acquaintances? Maybe Shepard was hard with those who still had to prove themselves to her, or maybe it was like that with all humans. Garrus certainly didn't know, and no amount of extranet searching was assisting him.

He glanced down idly at his omni-tool, deciding to give it one more go. He typed in 'human hanar relationship similarities' then deleted it, figuring he'd get some messed-up, tentacle-related results if he went that route. He tried another search of 'human relationship development' and clicked on a trustworthy-looking source, but was then disappointed to see the stages of romantic interest that humans seemed to have. Mildly intrigued, Garrus scrolled down the page, reading a line here or there that caught his attention. It discussed the progression of feelings, how humans could behave differently at various stages, their attitude towards sex-

His omni-tool beeped and an icon appeared, signifying that a new message awaited him. Garrus checked it, surprised that he had gotten anything at all at this hour. Usually Solona only contacted him on weekends, not on a Wednesday, and it was far too late for him to be getting a letter from his regular correspondences…

One button-press later and he wasn't sure if he should be embarrassed, amused, or flattered.

He had opened the message to find that it was from Shepard. Scrolling down, he found a picture of him bending over at the waist while he was working on the _Mako_. The camera was zoomed in on his ass until it took up nearly the entire frame. Beneath that Shepard had the same type of picture of Alenko and Wrex, too, though both seemed to be reaching for something on the ground instead of fixing things. A small caption beneath the trio of photos read, "decisions, decisions…"

A snort of laughter met his ears and Garrus' eyes shot up to see Shepard standing in the elevator, hurriedly pressing the 'up' button while doing her best to duck out of sight. She saw the look of shock on Garrus' face and lost control, falling into a fit of laughter as the elevator slowly lifted her up.

"Keep laughing, Shepard," Garrus warned just before her face disappeared. "Just don't forget: I still have those pictures of what happened last time we went planet-side." He paused for dramatic effect. "I'm sure Joker will appreciate those."

The look of horror on her face as she ascended to the CIC was priceless.

Shaking his head, Garrus turned back around to look at the message she had sent. The only thing he could think of to do was forward the message to Wrex with the line: "this is what Shepard does in her free time. Saren beware!"

Not two seconds later he heard a beep off in the distance, near the engine room. Wrex grumbled something incoherent and Garrus was almost afraid he wasn't going to check it.

Then he heard another beep as Wrex opened the message, which was then followed by silence. Wrex plodded around the corner and flashed the images towards Garrus, who only shrugged helplessly.

Wrex glanced back at the photos for a second. "From behind, I'd swear you were female." He looked at Garrus for a long moment and shook his head. "Pity."


	5. Let It Go

Though they had slaughtered their way through countless rachni, stepped over the devastated bodies of slain scientists, and just killed the mother of one of their comrades, Shepard was unable to hide the child-like grin from her face as she looked at the Rachni Queen.

Garrus and Kaidan voiced their concerns about saving her, but she didn't listen. She pressed closer to the glass, her eyes roving over the ancient relic that was laid before her. Fascination made her face glow; she was utterly entranced by its every move. There was a moment of concern where he wondered if Shepard had been brainwashed by the giant bug, or maybe Benezia, but then...

...but then she turned around, beaming. "Can you imagine how pissed off that turian councilor would be if I let this thing go?"

Kaidan, ever the logical thinker, voiced the obvious with a straight face. "I don't know if that's the best reasoning to base your decision off of, Commander."

She rolled her eyes in mock exasperation. "Who the hell said I based my decisions off of _reason_?" She looked back to the tank, her eyes returning to their previous glossy state. "Yeah," she said wistfully, stroking the glass with a loving finger. "He'll be pissed."

And with that, she slammed her fist down on the release button.


	6. Guilty Conscience

Shepard, Garrus, and Kaidan stood before their lockers, each one stripping off disgusting outer layers of armor as carefully as they could to avoid smearing bug guts and asari gore all over their faces. None were particularly successful, since the stuff had splattered all over their faces during combat inside Peak 15 anyway.

The Commander was the first to be reduced to her underclothes, a newly-stained and previously white tank with tighter fitting beige pants beneath. Before he would have been surprised by the musculature the female commander had, but now he realized that it was a necessity with her line of duty.

She gave her filthy shirt an appraising eye before shrugging and tossing it aside. "Totally worth it," she said with a bright smile. "I _cannot wait_ for the Noveria report. It'll be brilliant."

"Maybe you should change into something more appropriate first, Commander?" Alenko looked Shepard's way from the corner of his eye, a strange glint hidden inside that was unfamiliar to Garrus. Or, rather, it was unfamiliar when in the eyes of Alenko - he knew what it meant well enough.

Shepard was preparing her screwy grin right before Tali joined them. She grabbed Shepard's chest plate, holding it well away from her environment suit to examine it. "What happened down there, Shepard?" She poked the green, goopy blood with a covered finger and held it nearer to her visor. "This doesn't look familiar."

"Rachni," Kaidan said, pulling his shirt off and wiping at his chest with a well-used towel. The action earned an appreciative whistle from Shepard.

"What? Rachni? But they've—"

"I can help you get into more appropriate clothing, Lieutenant," Shepard said, holding up a flimsy towel of her own and nodding her head towards the showers. "Then you and me can get your report up and away."

"You said 'Rachni'? How? They've been gone for—"

"Maybe we should be having this conversation on our next shore leave—"

"Maybe we should be having this conversation in my room? Without clothes and with mood lightning? I've got a bed with some amazing lumps that you should try out."

"This is getting awkward," Garrus mumbled, buttoning up a fresher shirt and closing his locker, preparing to leave in a hurry. "Come on, Tali. I can explain along the way."

"And where the hell do you think you're going, Vakarian? I never said _you_ were excluded. In fact, I'd like to personally invite you along."

Kaidan rolled his eyes and quickly pulled on proper military clothing, smirking at Shepherd the whole time. Tali was still trying to get answers from Shepherd when Garrus pulled her away.

"Come on, Tali. You should know better than to get answers out of Shepherd right after a mission. Wait 'til the debriefing."

She sighed, shaking her head. "She said 'Rachni'! How could I resist?"

"Never said I blamed you for trying. She's just in too good of a mood to talk about it, I think."

"What's so good about killing Rachni?"

He grinned and felt the chuckle rumble in his throat. "The reaction that she's going to get from the Turian councilor when he finds out what happened."

Tali sighed again, this time with more frustration. He wanted to explain more, but figured Shepherd's debriefing would cover it all fully and there was no need to repeat it twice. So, instead of talking, they walked down the hallway in comfortable silence, making a beeline for the cafeteria.

"So, did you see Liara's mother down there?" Tali finally spoke once they grabbed themselves something to drink and took a seat. She had a straw connected to her suit somehow and was gulping down water as if _she_ had just come back from the mission.

Garrus was mindlessly chewing on tasteless garbage made for his species, looking out the window as space flew by them. "Yeah. She mentioned something about being mind controlled by the ship or Saren right before she died."

"How did she die?"

Garrus shrugged. "We killed her. Got into a fight and shot her a few times. Had a bunch of Commandos on our asses, too."

She cocked her head at him. The straw, still attached to her suit, followed her movement. "Doesn't that bother you?"

"Doesn't _what_ bother me?"

"You killed the mother of one of our friends."

"She was shooting at us, Tali. Trying to kill _us_. Why should I be bothered?"

"Because she was Liara's _mother_. I don't know if she's going to be okay with the idea of you shooting Benezia."

Garrus leaned back in his chair, his mandibles flaring in irritation. Even though that stupid straw was flailing around hopelessly on her helmet, his anger was still rising and he wasn't entirely sure why. "What's your point, Tali? I mean, what could I do? I have Asari commandos surrounding me, their commander is Benezia, and I'm just supposed to lay down my guns and apologize for shooting at her because it's Liara's mother?"

"I didn't say that."

"Then what are you saying?"

He could see her eyes pivot to the hall, where Shepard and Alenko were walking past and laughing, and she waited until both were gone until she spoke again. "I know you did what you had to do, Garrus. All I'm saying is I'm surprised you don't feel a little bad about it." She looked him square in the eye. "I would."

Another silence, this one unsettling and uncomfortable. Both didn't know what to say next: Tali's quiet was from her having said all she needed to say, and his was because he didn't want to express his frustration at the sheer idiocy of the idea that he should feel bad for killing someone that was trying to kill him.

 _Why should I feel bad - because Liara might feel bad? It's not my fault her mother was Saren's puppet. I have no reason to feel bad. Sure, it sucks that it was Liara's mom, but…_

He shook his head. He knew what he was thinking. He knew it was crazy for him to feel guilty. But now he was starting to feel guilty for _not_ feeling guilty and it was all Tali's fault and it didn't even make sense.

"Damn it, Tali."

He could sense that she was grinning behind her visor.

Joker came over the intercom and announced that there was a debriefing about to happen, so two outsiders on a ship full of humans stood from their seat and began to make their way towards the meeting room.

Halfway to the hall, Tali stopped Garrus. "You still have Rachni blood on your face."

He grunted and wiped it away. "You still have a straw attached to your mask." She rushed to remove it. "Maybe you should keep it on. It's a good look for you."


	7. One Mean Son-of-a-Bitch

_Taptaptap….taptap…taptaptap._

It was endless.

 _Tap. Taptaptap. Taptap._

Drawing near before hurrying away, towards the cafeteria.

 _Taptaptap._

So quiet, but just loud enough to keep him from sleeping.

 _Taptaptaptaptap._

Spirits, he had been listening to it for damn near an hour. It didn't relent once in that space of time. Judging by the total lack of any other noise, it seemed nobody but him was remotely bothered by it. Of course, this didn't surprise him – noise, high-pitched noise – was a much greater concern for him than anyone else on this damn ship. They couldn't hear it. He could.

Oh, could he ever hear it.

 _Taptaptaptaptaptapta_ —

"You've got to be joking," he hissed at his ceiling. He threw his blankets off of him and onto the floor, then stumbled his way into a standing position: he was used to turian-sized beds, not these goddamn midget beds. Once he corrected his stance, he grabbed a spare shirt and pants in a fluid motion and threw them on so haphazardly that he would have been chewed out for nearly as long as he'd been lying awake listening to that stupid noise on this stupid ship filled with stupid deaf humans who wouldn't hear a legion of elcor raiding their damn Normandy.

He didn't know what the hell it was that was out there, but he was ninety-eight percent certain he was going to kill it. He'd hear rumors of space rats and always doubted their existence, but right now he was more than willing to believe it just so he'd have a semi-decent excuse for firing a weapon while on the ship.

He hated rats.

The metal door blocking his room from the crew member's hall flew open, but due to the hydraulic hinges or whatever the hell they were it denied him the satisfaction of hearing the crash of the door against the metal walls of the vessel. His rifle, the one that always lay next to his bed, was in his hands. Bringing it had been more of a reflex than a conscious effort, but right now he was thankful for that training. If a rat was the reason for his lack of sleep, then it was about to learn why it's never good to keep a turian awake when he's in desperate need of some beauty rest.

As he rounded the first corner to approach the cafeteria, he was slowed by the discovery that the rat pattering sounded an awful lot like footsteps. Rather heavy ones; far too heavy for space rodents. He didn't particularly know what to think about that: these were restricted hours where the crew should either be in their rooms or at their stations.

Not wandering aimlessly around on a stealth ship.

He paused at the corner, his back pressed against the wall with his rifle raised at his side. The situation had evolved into something he wasn't too sure about. Maybe someone was just getting a midnight snack. Maybe they couldn't sleep. Maybe they were trying to diagram the ship so they could sell the schematics off to the highest bidder? Humans may have been new to the galaxy, but they were already known as opportunistic bastards. It would certainly be feasible for an Alliance member to do something like that, right? It could be a what-for against the turians, since they helped design the ship and a lot of humans were against it.

Maybe they were setting goddamn space rats free on the ship? No, schematics seemed more likely, even though the odds of it were slim—

Next thing he knew, a knee was thrust into his stomach, his arm was twisted behind his back, and the back of his hand was nearly rubbing the top of his skull. His prized rifle was somewhere and he didn't really know where but how the hell did he just get unarmed?

Wasn't he supposed to be excellent at hand-to-hand combat or something? "Damn..."

"Garrus? What the hell are you doing out here?" His arm was immediately released and he sighed when he was relieved of the pressure. His opposite hand rose and touched his shoulder, helping to roll out the muscles that had been brutalized moments before.

A sheepish smile, one that he wasn't entirely certain if Shepard would understand, spread. "I, uh…I couldn't sleep."

Her eyes bore into him like the mining laser on Therum as she thrust his rifle back into his hands. "I'm fairly certain you were briefed on the regs of the Normandy. Nobody's supposed to be up at night unless they're going to take a shit or are going to work."

 _Forgot about the bathroom. That would have worked._

 _Except the bathroom is in the other direction._

 _"_ You're right. I was briefed on that."

 _And now she's just staring at me waiting for me to explain because she can't really chew out a non-crewmember. There's not much she can do other than yell at me and hope I don't do it again, and she's not one for yelling._

"I put that rule in place for a reason."

Now his free hand moved up to his neck. "Oh."

Still she waited.

"I heard a noise. Sounded like something walking around. Been going on for nearly an hour, so I thought I should check it out." He sighed and leaned against the wall, cradling his gun, trying to ignore the stare-down he was on the receiving end of. "Why are you still awake? You've had a long day fighting Rachni and prank-calling the councilors. I'd have thought you'd be ready for a good night's sleep."

Shepard narrowed her eyes. "Tali," she explained, in the bitterest voice possible.

"She cornered you, too?"

"About Benezia?" Garrus nodded and that made Shepard swear. "I'm going to space her ass for harassing my crew."

"I just think she enjoys making us uncomfortable."

"Damn quarians." Shepard shook her head, then motioned for Garrus to follow her towards one of the tables in the mess hall. He took a seat, and she grabbed a bottle of water and two glasses to share the drink between them. "She caught me right after the briefing and started nagging me to see if I felt bad about Benezia. I mean, sure, I feel bad that Liara's mom got killed, but why the hell should I feel bad about us being the ones who killed her after the wench shot at me?" She drank her water like it was a shot of whiskey and grimaced. "I know Tali's smarter than that, though. She probably _is_ just trying to annoy me." She gave Garrus a tight grin. "Maybe."

Garrus chuckled low and drank from his glass, reflecting on the guilt he had felt earlier. While he felt considerably better knowing that Shepard didn't give a crap, either, there was still something nibbling away at his insides, something that, at first, he couldn't quite put his finger on.

As Shepard went to refill her cup, Garrus sank further into his thoughts. Shepard casually mentioned something about how he should think out loud, but that made Garrus pause all the more. He didn't know how to explain that the main thing bothering him was the fact that Noveria _didn't_ bother him like it should have. He had just helped kill the mother of one of his companions, watched as a group of humans needlessly led themselves to be slaughtered by Shepard for betraying her after she helped him, and dealing with the numerous dead bodies that were shredded by the rachni along each pathway…

Why wasn't this troubling him?

He knew about PTSD, knew about shock, knew about all that from his days in the military…but this just didn't seem to fit. The alarm bells weren't ringing.

He tried to voice his worries to Shepard, tried to tell her all that he was thinking and that the main reason for his concern was that he simply wasn't _feeling_ like Tali jokingly thought he ought to feel. She listened and nodded her head slowly, though her eyes seemed a little distant.

"I know what you mean," she sighed when he was finished. She chewed on the inside of her lip for a moment before leaning forward, closer to Garrus. "I don't know what all you saw while you were in the military, but I can imagine that it wasn't pretty. And even if you didn't then, I know you did in C-Sec by the stories that you've told me." Her hands formed a steeple and she pressed her index fingers against her forehead. "Then compound that with all the missions I've taken you on where you see so many dead, all the husks, all the remains of people that we just couldn't save, and we start to realize that we've seen more in one day than most people in this galaxy have seen in a lifetime – mature krogan and asari aside."

Arms lowered, her hands folded in her lap, her eyes leveled with his. "We've seen a lot of crazy shit. Even on this trip to Peak 15, we've seen some things that are beyond comprehension..." She shook her head. "After a while, you grow numb to the horrors of war and everyday life. You see so much that you just can't care anymore; if you do then you might go crazy from it all. Too many innocent people die, too many meet deaths that they didn't deserve, too many get their asses kicked for trying to be a good person. The galaxy is one mean son-of-a-bitch to the little guys, and people like us see that. And maybe we still feel sorry for those guys deep down, I don't know.

"What I do know, though, is that when I see people like Benezia and those scientists, all messing with things that should have been left alone, and I suddenly don't care about what happens to them. I see the scientists ripped apart on the floor of that research facility and think they deserve it for what they were doing to the Rachni. I see Benezia get shot up and think that's what she deserves for trying to be the hero with Saren despite how her breasts bounced into the situation without any idea of what they were getting into. Good people die for doing nothing at all: that's the way the galaxy works. If the galaxy wants to throw a little justice in there and get rid of the baddies and the idiots in as brutal of a fashion as possible then so be it. I won't complain."

Was she answering his question or trying to explain herself? He wasn't so sure.

She smiled crookedly again, though it was far from reaching her still-distant eyes. The effect that combination had was odd and confusing, the perfect expression for the human woman that stood before him. "Maybe I'm wrong for feeling, or not feeling, the way that I do. Maybe I'm not wrong. All I know is that my job is hard enough as it is and I can't sit here feeling sorry for the idiots of the world who got what was coming for them." Her voice lowered to a level that he wondered if most humans could even hear. "Maybe we're just not that different from each other." She shrugged, then glanced idly around the cafeteria to give Garrus time to consider her words.

And Garrus _did_ consider what she said, long and hard. He recalled the images of the scientists on Noveria, of Benezia dying, and they conjured no emotions within him, neither positive or negative. The memories of the decaying corpses of mercenaries in a cave that reeked with the stench of death, mercenaries that had killed countless lives to get at some stupid treasure, did nothing to his emotions other than pluck at a small chord of satisfaction within him. They had been motivated by selfishness, had they not? Paychecks and plunder? Why waste time pitying fools like that?

His head bowed further in thought as he thought of his time at C-Sec, of all the times when the most innocent of lives were the ones that had been so deeply hurt. The children that had come to him bruised and broken because their father had raised a hard hand against them, the small skeletons that he would find in the ducts, the bodies of the young and old who had died from sicknesses that they had no money to treat because the thugs came and took all they had…those were injustices. Those images made his blue blood boil, made his heart ache, and made him want to fight every bureaucrat that stood in his way of justice.

Their eyes met yet again, his and Shepard's. Nothing was said, but he saw the miniscule nod in his direction. He stood, rifle in his off hand, and reached his other palm out to her and she accepted it. She stood with his help and, for a moment, they faced each other with their hands firmly clasped together.

He didn't know what to say to her, whether he should thank her or salute or do…something. Thankfully he didn't have to wait long, because Shepard shook his hand and asked if there was anything else on his mind.

"No, no, just…thanks. For talking."

"Any time, Garrus. Now, get your ass back to bed."

He walked out the door, but not before taking one last quick glance back at the commander, who had resumed sitting in her seat. Her head was hanging between her shoulders, her hands clasped and resting on the back of her head. Her eyes were closed.

But she looked up, probably noting that the door hadn't yet _swished_ shut, and saw Garrus. "Watch out for space rats on your way back. Adams swears he saw one."

She grinned when he rolled his eyes.


	8. Earth to Saleon

Not long after Noveria Garrus found himself sitting alone at a small side table in the mess hall, fiddling with a cup of warm water he'd gotten hours ago. He had received an interesting tidbit of information regarding a former doctor he knew and he was all too anxious to act on it. For the last three days he had been waiting for a chance to speak with Shepard, but she had been busy on the Citadel so he had no chance to speak to her in private.

He had little more to do while he waited than brood over what he'd do once he found Saleon, and even that was starting to get old. He shot the doctor in the face every single time he played through the scenario, and even though he would often try to mix up the dialogue, usually he'd just be so angry at the sight of the salarian that his gun did all the talking for him.

How he could get so angry at a mere imagining was something to wonder at, to be sure.

He felt rather than saw the two figures flanking him but he didn't have to turn around to figure out who it was. Liara and Tali took the seats opposite of Garrus; the asari had a tray of food while Tali had an odd-looking boxed meal in front of her that sent a shudder of repulsion through Garrus.

"I don't know how you can eat that stuff," Garrus muttered darkly. "Tastes like cardboard, among other things that are equally…unpleasant."

" _I'm_ not eating it. This is for you." Tali pushed the carton in his direction. "You've barely eaten these past few days. We've been worried."

Garrus looked down at the unappetizing box of gray and brownish goop before him. "Would you be offended if I passed on this?"

"Yes. And then I'd tell Shepard you're not eating."

"Dammit, Tali." Garrus sighed and picked up one of the oddly-shaped utensils that the humans used for eating. He disliked using them – he could barely get his fingers around them – but _not_ using them often made the crew members look at him like he was the rachni queen riding on the back of a krogan while making sweet, sweet love to Saren.

 _…where the hell did my mind just go?_

He dipped the spoon into the brownish parts of his food and tentatively put it into his mouth, fully expecting the worst. To his surprise, it didn't taste like the shit it appeared to be: it was mildly sweet, reminiscent of a fruit he hadn't tasted in years. Happy that something had gone right today, Garrus quickly disposed of that half of his tray. "Color me pleasantly surprised, Tali. That wasn't bad."

"I added some of the food paste that Quarians are given on their pilgrimage to it. I heard somewhere that it makes these meals better, so I'm glad it worked."

Garrus gave an appreciative nod before diving into the gray matter on the other half of the dish. He swallowed a bite and then, just as the second spoonful was about to touch his lips, the aftertaste hit him like one of Shepard's fists. He didn't know what a rhinoceros' ass tasted like, but he imagined this crap was designed to replicate the flavor.

"Apparently there's nothing you can do for the gray stuff," Tali added apologetically while Liara snickered at her side.

"I appreciate the effort, anyway," Garrus said, pushing the plate away. At least the sweet stuff hadn't been so bad: it was better than most of the food he'd had while onboard this ship.

Liara gave a thin smile and ate in silence, as she had been doing since Benezia died. Garrus didn't say much, either, and instead chose to down the glass of water that was in front of him before settling in to people-watch.

He saw many come and go out of the mess hall for their dinner, most choosing to take their meals with them back to their stations. Some decided to stay and chat, and though Garrus tried to hear what was going on it really didn't make a lot of sense to him. Mentionings of football and soccer, an argument about which was the correct term, and general happenings on Earth soared over his head. He had no idea what any of those things were and had never thought to ask about what was popular on Shepard's homeworld. Then again, he didn't even know when she had last been to Earth or if she cared much about it, so maybe it wasn't too big of a deal to her.

Still, he was interested in learning.

"Know anything about the human homeworld?"

Liara looked up in surprise, this question obviously being one of the last things she expected to hear. "Earth? No, I know little about it. That which I do know is related to their discoveries pertaining to the Protheans and the Mass Relays, which I doubt would be beneficial to you."

"It will be when I want to fall asleep tonight."

She scowled at him but it didn't take long for the façade to falter. A small grin managed to shine through; an achievement to be proud of, considering her mood for the past couple days.

Tali cocked her head to the side, still thinking. "I hear that the humans there can never agree on anything. Everybody is out for themselves." She gave a grunt of disapproval. "That would never happen on the Flotilla."

Liara nodded at this. "Humans tend to be quite individualistic compared to other races, or so I've been told."

"I wonder if there are a lot of humans like Shepard on Earth?" Tali's question was directed at no one in particular, but Alenko, who had been passing by, stopped in his tracks and turned around.

"No, I'm pretty sure she's unique among us," he chuckled.

Tali, pleased that he had joined in their conversation even though he was a passerby, asked him to join in since he would be the only one who would have valid input. Though he hesitated momentarily, he eventually took a seat at the end of their table. His action earned more than a few surprised double-takes from the other humans sitting around them, but Alenko tried hard not to notice.

Garrus sat forward, thinking it'd be interesting to hear things about Shepard from another human's point-of-view. "Why's that?"

Alenko's eyes brightened and a content smile was plastered on his face. Liara saw the change in his demeanor and her own altered to show irritation. "It's hard to explain," he began, chewing on an orange vegetable as he spoke. "If you grew up around us, around humans, I guess it'd be easy to understand. We come in all kinds. We can be geniuses or idiots, emotionally stable or utterly psychotic. I don't know where Shepard fits among all that, but I've never met anyone like her. Few people are willing to fight for what they believe in. Fewer still fight for what's right, even when they'd much rather do things their own way. She's a rarity among any species."

Garrus tilted his head imperceptibly towards Liara, who was swirling the contents of her cup in frustration. "Careful, Alenko: you're letting your admiration shine a little too bright," Garrus intoned quietly.

The lieutenant seemed to be satisfied by this, or at least his horribly-hidden grin suggested as much. He sat back in his chair, cradling the back of his head with his hands and acting delighted. As an afterthought he added, "Call me Kaidan, by the way."

"Right." Garrus took a swig from his cup, chuckling at the love triangle that was developing between the two humans and the asari. Shepard already made it clear where she stood, but he wasn't so sure if she had set everything straight with Liara.

For some twisted reason, Garrus was going to love hearing that story once it happened.

In the meantime, he could only settle with laughing at the dark looks Liara shot at Kaidan whenever he wasn't paying attention. Tali, eager to alter the atmosphere, asked what Earth was like.

Kaidan gave a patient smile. "It's no different than the species that lives on it." He dove into some details on how vastly different each area of Earth could be, how one area could be nothing but scorching heat and sand while the next area was a rainforest filled with exotic wildlife that few had laid eyes on before. He mentioned the larger cities and the rampant gangs and crime, but also the rolling countryside and how you could be the only person around for miles.

It was a fascinating thing to listen to. Palaven didn't have the ecologic diversity that Earth did and the Citadel was certainly lacking in this area, so it was an odd thing to imagine that such a schizophrenic planet existed. Those planets that Shepard had taken him to were boring and dull with a universal landscape covering its surface - nothing like the home world of the humans.

Perhaps their kind was so diverse and different because their environment was that way, too?

Liara must have been wondering the same thing, because she voiced this question to Kaidan. He shook his head. "You could have twins on Earth living in the same house and exposed to the same things for twenty years and they'd both come out with different opinions on life."

Their conversation deepened before widening and branching off, until each one of them was reminiscing about their home planet and the comforts that lay there. Tali seemed uncomfortable when her turn came, unsure whether to discuss the Flotilla or an actual planet, but she soon leaned towards the only place she knew as a home. The mess hall was slowly emptying out before any of them realized how late it was, but they were all so enveloped in the conversation that they ignored the time and continued chatting.

It was nearing ten o'clock when the doors slid open and Shepard walked through, ignoring everything but the food bar. She marched straight to where the additional stores were kept and rummaged through the drawers, not relenting until she found something decent to snack on. With food held tightly in both hands, she turned to the group and gave a small, full-fisted wave before heading back towards the door.

"Leaving so soon?" Liara asked, disappointed.

"Post-mission, late-night snack cravings. Impossible to ignore. Have sustenance now, though, so I can go." Between sentences she took a bite out of an energy bar that she held in one hand, her infamously ravenous hunger showing its colors.

"You should join us, Commander," Kaidan said, leaning back in his chair.

Garrus half-wished she would decide to go, giving him the opportunity to follow and finally speak with her. He hadn't forgotten about Saleon, and seeing Shepard here, now, reminded him of his burning desire to hunt that sick puppy down and ensure that Saleon wouldn't escape from his clutches again.

Shepard had different plans, though. She popped the last morsel of the energy bar into her mouth as she considered the option of staying, crumbling up the wrapper for added effect. "I guess I can sit in for a bit, but I won't bother you for long." Her odd little legs brought her to the table, where she took the last open seat by Garrus.

"Chief Williams didn't follow you here?"

"She might come in later, but I doubt she'll stay." Kaidan and Shepard exchanged a meaningful glance that made Shepard sigh. "Her loss, I guess."

"We've been discussing our homes," Liara said after a brief pause, then nodded to each person in turn. "Palaven, the Flotilla, Thessia, Earth…it seems, however, that Earth has piqued everyone's interest due to its diversity and status as the relative newcomer to the galaxy. Could you give us your input as to what you recall about it?"

Shepard's smile faltered, something that she quickly became aware of. To distract everyone from her fading grin, she popped open a bag of mini-muffins. "Earth, huh? It's a lot of big buildings and dirty streets. Not much to remember, really. Alenko could probably tell you more. Heard his dad had some nice property that I wouldn't mind seeing," she added with a wink in his direction.

"That's it?" Garrus turned in his chair to look at her. "The great Commander Shepard, hero of the Alliance, can only say that Earth has big cities and dirty streets? Spirits, you should have heard Alenko's poetry earlier about the place. You would have thought it was a paradise."

She shrugged and ripped a chunk of muffin off with her fingers. "What can I say? I have a way with words."

Brushing her joke aside, Kaidan pressed her with another question. "Where were you born, Commander?" he asked, reaching over to steal a tiny treat from Shepard. She slapped his hand away, but not before he had a prize of his own.

As the scene unfolded, Garrus could see Liara's jaw set.

"So," Kaidan began again as he chewed. "Birthplace?"

"I haven't the foggiest," she said, adding "but I'm guessing a hospital."

Tali sighed loudly and crossed her legs. "Were you expecting a straight answer out of Shepard, Kaidan? I thought you knew her better than that."

A long, lone finger pointed at Tali. "I resent that." Shepard paused mid-thought, and her finger curled into a fist. "And you know what else I resent? Strip clubs."

She then regaled the tale of how she and Williams went into Chorra's Den with Wrex, only to find that a couple other males in the club inexplicably thought that the two human women clad in heavy armor and with battle armaments strapped to their backs were exotic strippers. They asked for a dance or two, offered to clean off a table for them and had even gone so far as to show off the tips they were willing to give. "Goddamn, the amount of money they offered almost made it tempting, too."

Then, after they tried to politely explain to the drunks that they were not, nor had they ever been, strippers, the men still didn't get the picture. "I had no choice but to punch one of them in the face," Shepard sighed remorsefully, folding her hands across her stomach. "Williams got the other. Saddest day of my life, really."

 _She probably thought it was the best thing that's happened to her all week._

Liara scoffed. "I could not even imagine you in the outfits they wear at the den. Anything outside of a battle uniform is…unlike you. To think that one could mistake you to be a dancer at Chorra's Den is an absurd thought," she said with a tiny shake of her head.

Shepard, who had gotten up for something to wet her throat, couldn't help but snort noisily at Liara's comment. Garrus looked up in time to see her choking on the drink she had gotten, half laughing and half struggling for air all the while.

"Did I say something wrong?" Liara said, her face a little aghast.

"No, no," Shepard quickly consoled Liara after regaining the ability to breathe. She grabbed her mug and returned to her seat. A few more coughs later and she got the situation under control. "It's just that…would you believe me if I told you that I once was really, really drunk and got into a dancing contest against a stripper?"

"Oh?" Kaidan leaned forward, delighted. "What was the outcome?"

"This is just between us, but…" She stuck the last muffin into her mouth, not lifting her eyes to meet anyone. "I lost. Badly."


	9. Not a Murderer

Shepard and Garrus stood in front of the galaxy map, looking at their current position in relation to how far off they were to reaching Saleon. So long as they didn't run into anything unexpected, Shepard said, they should be there within two hours.

She began to ask if had any idea what to expect from this Salarian, whether or not he had used defense droids while on the Citadel or had hired mercenaries for security. Garrus shook his head no, saying that they probably wouldn't need much more than a pistol to take this bastard out.

Shepard responded. "Sometimes, the sweetest justice is knowing that a guy like Saleon will rot in a jail cell for the rest of his life." The crooked smirk that seemed so fitting for her appeared on her lips. "Hell, every time he goes to take a shower he'd probably have to worry about his pride being forcibly stolen."

Shepard stopped Garrus with a raised hand before he could disagree and point out the numerous occasions she had killed one man or another who could have rotted in jail. "Killing the doctor is an easy out for him. Just think about it." Her thoughtful gaze returned to the star map, watching the tiny light that indicated the Normandy's position travel across the darkness of empty space. "Go get ready, Garrus."

Exactly two hours later Shepard and Garrus stood near a door on a foreign ship with Ashley guarding their rear. Shepard's ear was pressed close against the cold metal of the door, her face scrunched as she concentrated on the sounds that lay beyond.

Nobody could ignore the ominous feeling that had been stifling them since they left the Normandy. Everybody was on guard, especially Shepard, who was refusing to move out until she had an idea of whether or not they would be meeting any resistance.

This would have surprised anyone who didn't really know her: to most she seemed brazen and foolhardy, the type that would dart out into the combat zone with little or no tactical planning and preparation beforehand. To the contrary, she was actually extremely deliberate with her actions, to the point where it could be considered a fault. Aside from doing recon all the time, she also adamantly took point despite the danger and the protests from others, and would often command that her squad remain behind until she cleared out the area ahead.

It was frustrating for Garrus in many ways, but mostly because Shepard was so insistent upon putting herself into so much danger because she didn't think her team competent enough to handle it. Even now Ashley and he were passing off annoyed glances at each other, knowing that they would be left behind for the greater part of this battle.

 _If she tries to leave me behind when she confronts Saleon…_

"All right," Shepard said quietly, leaning back from the door though her eyes remained locked on it. "I can't hear anything definite beyond here, but every once in awhile I'd hear something shuffling around. I don't know what it is, but I don't like the way it feels. Something isn't right."

"Our orders, Commander?" Ashley's voice harbored an edge, as if she already knew what the orders would be and didn't like it one bit. She was a skilled soldier, too, and Shepard knew that. Why leave them behind so she could run heedlessly into danger on her own? They were more effective as a group!

Shepard didn't answer right away. Her fingers gently brushed over the surface of the button that would open the door before them, but not before giving Garrus a backwards glance, as if to ask if he was ready. He nodded once, sharply, and she turned her attention forward again. "Williams, Vakarian, take either side of this doorway. I'll take point. Wait for my orders. Routine. Once we see what's beyond, we'll go from there."

Without waiting for confirmation from her squad, Shepard pushed the button and darted forward beneath the still-rising door. Her pistol was held squarely in her hands as she scanned both her left and right. Garrus leaned out to see from his hideout and watched as Shepard pressed herself flat against a barrier directly ahead of them. She edged to the side, peering around the corner, but it didn't take long before her head snapped back to safety.

There was definitely something there.

Garrus listened with all his might and heard the shuffling sound that Shepard had mentioned, slow and meandering, and he tried to place the noise to some sort of being. It definitely wasn't krogan, salarian, turian, asari, anything that he knew of. Maybe a drunken asari, now that he thought about it, but that didn't seem to fit with the general ominous vibe of the ship.

Then again, this ship belonged to Doctor Saleon. Who the hell knew what could be beyond that barrier? It could be anything, possibly even some soulless creature that the doctor crafted himself.

Judging by the look of distress on Shepard's face, that guess probably wouldn't be too far off.

She gave a series of hand signals that informed them that there were at least three _somethings_ around one corner and a few explosive containers. She pointed to Ashley, then to Garrus, and motioned that they take a stand on the side of the barrier where she was not. It didn't escape Garrus' notice that this same side was the one where she saw nothing.

Ashley noticed, too. When Shepard turned her back to them to peer around the corner again, Williams gave Garrus another look of sheer annoyance. Her eyes rolled back, her jaw set, and she gripped her gun a little more firmly. He could only shrug and motion for her to follow him to their designated spot.

Not three steps in they heard Shepard let out a long string of curses. "Shitshitshitmotherfuckingshit!" was the last that Garrus could catch before a loud explosion made his ears ring. "Contact!" she added, a little belatedly. "I don't know what the hell they are, but they are _not_ friendly!"

Garrus looked quickly behind him to see her throw a wild punch around the corner, out of his sight, and then her pistol rang out twice before she threw herself out of cover to release a few more rounds at the enemy that was getting too close for comfort.

Her escape from shelter being his cue, Garrus rounded his corner as well, gun raised, shouting "Go, go, go!" for no real reason other than to alert Ashley to his movements. As soon as he whipped around cover he saw a small herd of humanoid horrors loping fast in their direction. Garrus didn't take the time to figure out what the hell they could be and instead unleashed a firestorm of bullets at them. This directed their attention to him and Ashley, more so than the pistol shots coming from the opposing end of the barrier, and before he knew it they were being overwhelmed by horrific beasts.

He felt the noxious fumes they exuded seep into the cracks of his armor, into his helmet, searing his throat as the poison went into his lungs. Ashley, behind him, was coughing and sputtering while she tried to knock one of the things off of her. She managed to hit its skull with the butt of her rifle but then she doubled over, wheezing, and threw off her helmet to gasp for precious air.

Garrus thought for sure that she didn't notice the enemy that was trying to flank her after it had evaded him, so he shouted Ashley's name in the nick of time. She jumped back to her feet, alerted, and instead of receiving a brutal blow to the back of the head she only got a nasty-looking cut across her neck. This, at least, infuriated her and sent her into something like a blood rage. Taking after Shepard's usual tactics, Williams totally abandoned her gun in favor of beating the shit out of the thing with her fist, not stopping until its head was in a bloody green heap on the ground.

Then she rose and joined Garrus' side, still wheezing but not caring at this point, and grabbed a shotgun from her back. The rest of the things coming in their direction were riddled with gaping holes in no time.

Ashley held a gloved hand to her neck to try and stop the bleeding. Her breathing was still haggard and coming hard, not unlike Garrus', but the concern on her face was not for herself. "Where's the Commander?" she gasped.

His eyes scanned the field but it was a useless motion: too many obstacles stood in the way and he'd never get a clear view. She wasn't at the opposite end of this barrier, though, he knew that much: things were far too quiet for that to be the case.

Alarm overcame him, coupled with dread. His gun tight in his hand, he took a few leaping strides forward, but stopped suddenly in his tracks when he saw the unmistakable form of the Commander stepping out from behind a large crate. She was no worse for wear than she was when they arrived.

She looked at the carnage by his and Ashley's feet with much approval before her eyes landed on him. Those irises became hard as soon as she saw the flecks of blue blood on his face, coming from a wound that he didn't realize he had. That, combined with his wheezing, must have made him a terribly pathetic sight.

"I'm fine, Shepard," he said with some irritation. "Check Williams, and then let's find Saleon."

At that her eyes became like steel and she closed the distance between them with so few steps that it shouldn't have been possible. She ripped her glove off one hand and grabbed his chin, moving his head side to side before thrusting it upwards to look for wounds. Her examination wasn't long – within ten seconds she had found whatever she was looking for and had a tube of medi-gel in her hands.

"It's fine-"

"Shut up, I didn't ask you," she muttered, squeezing the ointment into a gash on his cheek. She slathered it on quickly then took a few steps to Williams.

She didn't do the same inspection of Williams that she had done to him. Instead she saw the obvious wound immediately, since it was still oozing blood down onto and into Williams' armor. Shepard's face went blank as soon as she saw it, no longer the hard but concerned commander that she was seconds ago.

There was a smoldering rage in her eyes as she tended to Ashley's wound.

Was she angry at Ashley for getting hurt? For running into combat without orders as she had?

What was the problem?

A few minutes later Shepard had a light bandage around Ashley's neck that covered the healing goo. Though Shepard was still concerned over her breathing, it seemed as if it had improved much over the last few minutes, to the point where it was almost normal again.

The entire time Shepard had worked in silence, that anger still simmering just below the surface. Williams had noticed it too, judging by how uncomfortable she looked. "Sorry, Commander. I didn't—"

"Quiet, Chief."

"Yes, ma'am."

Not another word was spoken. Satisfied that her crew wouldn't keel over from their injuries, Shepard took the lead yet again and guided them around some boxes to the far end of the ship. She entered two rooms and found nobody, so they assumed that the third would contain their prize.

Again she took point, her gun lifted, and slammed her elbow into the button for the door. It slid open with ease to reveal an extremely relieved salarian.

At the sight of him Garrus felt his blood burn. The memories of his victims, his _patients,_ sprung up fresh in his mind. So did Saleon's escape, and the wrath that Garrus had held towards the damn rule book that refused to allow him to blow the hell out of Saleon's ship.

Saleon was a reminder of everything that was wrong with C-Sec and the galaxy. All of his frustrations with his life and job were represented by this damned doctor.

Garrus, with an even voice that belied how he was currently feeling, informed Shepard that this was the man they sought. He tried to keep from putting a bullet between the salarian's eyes when the doctor tried to refute his identity, claiming that he was Doctor Heart instead of Saleon - as if Garrus wouldn't recognize him!

How many days, weeks, months had he spent hunting down information on Saleon; hunting down Saleon himself? How long had he poured over his files and evidence, only to come up short at the end? All of his hard work to bring Saleon to justice, and now Saleon was going to act as if Garrus knew nothing about him, about his crimes?

"There's no escape this time, doctor. I'd harvest your organs first, but we don't have the time."

He had wanted to say it like Shepard, in her usual light-hearted and jovial tone that she always used before blowing somebody's head off, but all of his malice and hate managed to seep into his words without him being able to control it. It was enough to make Shepard look over at him, her eyes dark with something that he couldn't place and he didn't like.

She wasn't going to let him kill Saleon, was she?

She motioned for Ashley to keep her gun aimed at the salarian, which she did without question. Shepard approached Garrus and put a hand on his shoulder before she leaned in towards him. She spoke quietly, only loud enough for him to hear. "You're not a murderer, Garrus."

"I've killed plenty, Shepard," he said in a low growl. "I've been waiting for this for years."

"You've killed people who have tried to kill you. This is different and you know it. You're settling a grudge, not defending yourself. You are _not_ a murderer."

"How do you know I'm not?"

"I know enough about murderers to see that you're not one."

Garrus turned his head towards the commander, ready to spew venom in her direction. He only got out one word, one damned word, before he stopped in his tracks. She was looking at him in a way that he had never seen before, one full of intensity and tenderness and not a small amount of understanding. It froze him, pierced him, made him melt. He couldn't decipher his emotions, couldn't piece together what she was trying to convey, but he knew that he couldn't argue with her. Hopefully he could later, but he certainly couldn't do it now.

"You're a lucky salarian," Garrus said, only finally ripping his eyes away from Shepard to look at the doctor. "You owe the commander your life. You can think about that while you're in jail."

Saleon rolled his eyes and offered sarcastic thanks. He walked away, his back to them, and Garrus barely caught that the salarian's hands were reaching towards a gun at his side.

Shepard caught it, too, and shot Saleon in the back of the head before he even had his fingers wrapped around the handle of his pistol.

She took a few steps over towards the now-fallen doctor and nudged the limp body with her boot. Garrus was still trying to register what had just happened.

"So he dies anyway? You shoot him in the back of the head? What was the point—"

"I said you weren't a murderer, Garrus, and I meant that." Shepard bumped the salarian's head this time and smiled an odd smile when it fell to the other side. "Never said I wasn't one, though."


	10. PalaveNet

**PalaveNet Search Engine**

 **Enter Search Parameters Below.**

19:43:32 – human homeworld

19:44:57 – earth

19:51:21 – pictures of earth

20:13:36 – cultures of earth

20:34:16 – popular human games

20:35:57 – popular human drinking games

20:37:09 – popular human gambling games

20:40:03 – poker

20:40:47 – online poker

20:45:32 – definition of n00b

20:51:24 – free online poker

21:27:12 – online chess

21:32:18 – how to play chess

21:41:51 – definition of dinosaur

21:42:12 – what is a dinosaur

21:43:16 – pictures of dinosaurs

21:44:49 – do humans think turians look like dinosaurs

21:46:58 – are dinosaurs ancient turians

21:52:02 – pictures of ancient humans

21:54:17 – pictures of humans on earth

22:01:46 – human military

22:16:27 - alliance navy

22:24:27 – admiral hackit

22:24:52 – admiral hackett

22:29:32 – captain anderson

22:31:36 – commander shepard

22:32:03 – commander shepard biography

22:41:56 - commander shepard confidential files

22:43:13 – comm

"Busy?"

Garrus quickly hid the screen from the shadow that hovered near him before he looked up. He hadn't really realized how long he had been screwing around on the extranet until he saw the clock hanging on the far wall reading well past ten o'clock at night.

He had only wanted to see some pictures of Earth, maybe learn a little about it. He hadn't meant to wander into online poker lounges to lose a ton of credits, nor had he expected to be called a 'dinosaur' by some guy he was playing chess against.

"Not really," Garrus responded with a shrug. His mind was still dwelling on the whole dinosaur thing even though it happened well over an hour ago. Did he really look like one of those man-eaters? It'd certainly explain why humans looked piss-their-pants scared whenever they saw a turian walk into a room. If they thought he had descended from a species that took great pleasure in chasing and eating their kind then their fear was definitely understandable. Maybe the fear was mostly genetic, embedded into their genes or something?

But not all humans were afraid of turians. Shepard and her crew were a testament to that. Sure, most might hate him…

…unless they hated him because they thought he looked like a dinosaur? Maybe all the animosity had nothing to do with the war after all.

He considered asking Shepard about it, since she would more than likely give an honest answer without laughing at him too much. "Do you think we look like dinosaurs, Shep—"

 _Shit._

He had assumed it would be Shepard that was standing there. She was really the only one that ever came to visit him or, at least, she was the only human female that ever came to visit. When he heard a woman's voice he had simply assumed it would be her. Instead his eyes were greeted with the wide-eyed face of surprise that was uncharacteristic of Williams.

"Oh, uh…forget I said anything," he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. _Of all the times to make stupid assumptions, it's when Williams comes to talk…_

Come to think of it, why was she here? Last he knew, she was still giving him death glares from her perch in the room. She didn't mingle with the non-human crew and she made a special point of avoiding Garrus at all costs.

"Sorry. I can go if, uh, if you want." She pointed behind her with a thumb, indicating her station in the corner. Garrus shook his head 'no' and motioned for her to take a seat on the table. She politely declined. "I won't take up much of your time. I just wanted to…" She gave a short sigh and shook out her arms, stretched her neck. "I wanted to come and say 'thanks'."

Garrus really wished he could think of a better answer than silence, or the blank stare he was now the proud owner of, but he had no clue why she was really here, let alone why she was thanking him. Luckily she caught on to his puzzlement pretty quickly and now it was her turn to act embarrassed. "I mean for what happened back on the ship." She pointed at her still-bandaged neck. "If you wouldn't have given me some warning, my brains would have been spilled all over the floor. So…I guess I owe ya."

"Oh." He recalled yelling out to Ashley, warning her that one of those monstrosities was fast approaching, but he hadn't really thought anything of it afterwards. He certainly hadn't been about to allow that thing to rip her head off, despite her being a downright bitch towards him most of the time. "It's…yeah. You're welcome."

She brightened up a bit at the recognition of her thanks. "Glad that's taken care of! So, how 'bout when all this is done we go get a drink at the Citadel? You, me, and the Commander? Maybe the LT, too, if he stops acting like he has a stick up his ass all the time…"

He nodded in assent, still too surprised that Ashley was talking to him in the first place. Now she was inviting him out to drinks with other humans? What the hell?

"Better watch out for the Skipper, though. From the stories it seems like she gets a little crazy when she gets drunk. Her hands might wander your way, the LT might get pissed, and we could end up with an old-fashioned brawl on our hands." She shrugged before looking at her claws – no, fingers. "No offense, but I'd bet that the Lieutenant would win. You're good and all, but his biotics are pretty damn wicked."

…what?

"Then again, your abilities are nothing to laugh at and you're good with that gun of yours. You could have a chance. Plus, you're turian, so you've gotta pack a hell of a punch and your arms are longer, so you've got more reach. I don't know, maybe it'd be more interesting than I thought. I have to run this by the Commander, see what she thinks. Though, knowing her, she'd probably say Wrex. She always says Wrex."

 _I have no idea what's going on. Nervous chatter?_ "…Wrex?"

"Every time I offer up a scenario like this, no matter who it is, she always says Wrex will win. Every time. Even when I pitted Liara up against that asari matriarch bitch, one on one, it was still Wrex who came out on top."

He blinked. "I never win?"

Ashley seriously pondered this for a minute. "You won a sniping contest once against Wrex. But then she said that Wrex would still survive due to his redundant organs and all that, then he'd get pissed and kill you anyway, so I don't think it counts."

Since he had no idea what else to do, he decided to go with the flow and pretend this was all normal. "I'll admit, that's disappointing to hear. I'll have to bring this up to her."

She grinned brightly. "You do that."

Suddenly, silence.

She scratched her head again and, as if realizing she had just had a conversation with the sole turian on board, acted a little sheepish. "Well, uh, I'm going to go grab some chow. You coming?"

"Oh, sorry, no. I've got to do some things…" He waved absently towards the background, towards the Mako, to make his point.

She nodded her head and seemed more than slightly relieved. Which was odd, since she was the one chatting him up all of a sudden. He watched her go into the elevator and slam the button with her fist, opting to face the back wall of the lift instead of turning around. She clasped her hands behind her back and went into a form of attention as the elevator slowly began to ascend.

Garrus couldn't figure out what just happened or how he and Ashley became buddies so quickly. He was fairly certain it had something to do with Shepard, as she had been spending a good deal of time talking with Ashley lately and he was pretty certain he had heard raised voices and a lot of pointing in his direction, and so the Commander would be the best place to start to get these types of answers.

Plus, he still needed to ask about that whole dinosaur thing.

He looked back at his omni-tool and brought it back to life with a single press of a button. The orange glow of the device washed over his face, blanketing him in its familiar light. His searches were still up, along with the half-written parameter that he was going to do but could no longer remember. Without thinking too much, he deleted what he had written and began a new search.

22:50:25 – are humans attracted to krogan

He paused, not finding too terribly much in the way of information on the first few sites that appeared. Then a different thought popped into his mind, one that had been niggling at his brain for the past couple of days. Deciding that it couldn't hurt to do a search, he typed it in:

22:54:32 – are humans attracted to turians


	11. Then the Earth Ripped Apart

Her eyes were like stone as she surveyed the large expanse of flat land before her; lightly tanned knuckles were white from clenching the steering wheel of the Mako as hard as she was. Normally plush lips were unusually thin; her brows were knit together in consternation and formed hard lines around her eyes. Her helmet, thrown on haphazardly when she scrambled excitedly into the Mako, wasn't facing forward and her eye was partially blocked by the solid material it was made from. Despite the discomfort that must have caused, she made no move to correct it: her focus was unable to be drawn away from the level ground that lay before the front wheels of their vehicle.

Neither he nor Ashley knew why she had ceased her joyride, one that had caused him and Williams a great amount of discomfort and nausea. She seemed to be taking pleasure in watching them squirm, cackling every once in awhile at their complaints about her driving capabilities. She had even stopped to admire the constant meteor showers that made this planet rather unique among other planets in the solar system - Edolus' only redeeming quality. Despite the sand and boring colors, the burning fall of the celestial objects was enough to capture the attention of Shepard - and that was no small feat.

Now, though, her interest was solely on the ground and would fasten to nothing else. She did not respond to their questions. After Garrus asked a few times about why they were parked in the middle of nowhere he found himself on the receiving end of a distinct shushing sound that told him to be quiet. Not sure if he should be annoyed or curious, Garrus decided to just sit back in his seat, arms folded over his chest, and look out the window.

There was nothing to look at, though. A great area of land lay before them, uninterrupted by hills or mountains. It was sand as far as the eye could see with small peaks rising in the distance. Bright flashes of light illuminated the horizon on occasion, displaying even more bland landscape for them to take in, but it wasn't this that Shepard was looking at.

Garrus strained to look in the direction that she was observing, only now noticing the irregularly-shaped object that lay at the far edges of this clearing. He checked his map and, after a very quick calculation, determined that it was certainly the anomaly that Shepard had been chasing down with such wild abandon. Now, though, she was hesitating to go forward. Why?

Movement on her part drove his eyes to her hands. Humans had a delicate bone structure to begin with, but it was especially evident in their hands. She wasn't like Ashley, who was curvy and sturdy with a layer of muscle beneath. Shepard was full of sinewy strength, far more graceful than Williams on the field, and yet she could pack a punch that would be hard for most to rival. Had she been a turian, or had Garrus been a human who didn't know Shepard's prowess, then Garrus' instinct to protect such a seemingly-fragile creature probably would have gone into overdrive.

This, however, was Shepard. She was more than capable of protecting herself, of killing anything in her path, and blowing the hell out of everything that remained. In fact, she made a habit of doing those very things on a daily basis. The last thing she needed was an instinctually-driven turian hovering over her at every turn.

Especially not when she was reaching for her gun, like she was doing now.

Those hands hovered over her pistol for several seconds, her pupils shrinking into dangerous pinpricks. She made to grab it, then seemed to decide otherwise at the last second, instead opting for her rarely-used assault rifle. It had been given upgrades that most soldiers would be envious of, turning a regular AR into an all-out killing machine, but despite how obvious of a fit it seemed to be for her, Garrus had yet to see her use it. She preferred her pistol and her punches, or the occasional kick to the groin. Not an assault rifle.

"Shepard, what's—"

"Quiet."

Her eyes still locked on the anomaly, she slowly slid her free hand towards the latch on the door. A single pull opened the steel doors, exposing Shepard to the blowing sands outside. She cast a glance about at her environment then stepped out of the Mako. She motioned for Garrus to take the front seat, and as he obeyed her orders Shepard readied nearly a dozen clips and placed them in an easy-to-reach pocket on her belt.

Garrus reached a hand out to grab her arm before she could turn to walk away. "What the hell is going on, Shepard?"

She didn't say much. Instead she gestured around to the area they were in. "Thresher Maws," she said coldly, an alien wrath igniting her eyes into flames. "Looks like their territory." She pursed her lips in distaste and her hands clenched around her gun. "Drive forward, draw it out, then run like hell to get away. Simple plan. I expect it to be done flawlessly."

"We could do this with you in the car," Garrus said. "Or we could not do this at all. Killing a thresher maw isn't exactly on today's to-do list."

Her head turned towards him, looking at him as if she didn't quite understand who he was or why he was giving her such dumb suggestions. She was in another place, another time, and he wasn't welcome there. "Destroying these things are always on my to-do list." She shuffled her arm out of his grasp, adjusted the rifle in her hands, rolled her neck. "Just try not to get killed in the process. I don't have time for any more funerals." Her odd smirk came back, but it wasn't filled with the normal comical crookedness. It was empty and hollow, like the dark space of the universe.

The next thing Garrus saw was her back and swaying hips, strong legs carrying her towards the anomaly in the distance. Her gait was slow, her gun was raised, and she looked very much like she would snap at the slightest of noises.

Garrus looked towards Ashley, hoping for some insight as to what was going on. Maybe this was a human thing? Were there thresher maws on their planet that tended to eat up villages or something?

Ashley's eyes shone with sympathy before she gave a minute shake of her head. "Akuze," she said quietly, as if that was enough of an explanation for anyone. Though he recognized the name of the planet and remembered from his brief searches on Shepard that something big had gone on there, he had to admit that the details currently escaped him. He could say nothing to Ashley, nothing that would signify that he understood, but he didn't wish to look like a fool and admit his ignorance. Instead he shifted the Mako into drive and pressed down on the gas pedal, quickly overtaking Shepard and shooting past her towards the object in the distance.

 _I can't believe I'm doing this. If there is a thresher here, we're all dead. Shepard better know what she's doing._

Williams readied the machine gun despite her voiced opinion that there didn't seem to be anything unusual in the area. They drew nearer and nearer to the anomaly with no sign of any giant worm readying its strike. Garrus was well within fifty feet, thirty feet, fifteen –

Then the earth ripped apart.

A snake from the bowels of Hell tore out of the gaping hole it had created. It was huge, bigger than anything he had ever seen before, with a gaping maw that could swallow the Mako whole. Not expecting it to have appeared so suddenly, or so close, Garrus couldn't help but swear as he swerved quickly to the side to avoid a head-on collision with its massive body. Williams tried to shoot at it, and she even managed to fire a missile off in its direction, but it didn't even seem to faze the monster that rose like a tower in the air. It kept roaring into the sky, towards space, outraged at their trespass.

A ninety degree turn led them away from the Maw and towards a clear area that should have brought them to safety. Ashley kept shooting; the smell of metallic bullets and gunpowder molested Garrus' nose and the god-awful sound of the gun and the beast's shriek of rage assaulted his hearing.

It climaxed to the point where he thought he would go deaf from the high-pitched scream of bullets being forcibly ejected from a metal cylinder. He didn't know if his ears could take it, and he wasn't sure how he felt about losing one of his favored senses. He wanted it to stop, but if it stopped then Shepard could be put in danger or they could be in harm's way. It couldn't stop, wouldn't stop, not while Ashley was manning the guns…

But it did stop, unexpectedly and seemingly without cause. He assumed that the beast was felled and he felt shocked and thankful all at once. "Got it?"

Ashley's expression of fierce concentration warned him that things were not as he thought. "No, I don't know where—"

The ground trembled beneath them, shook and shivered violently, then tore apart only a few meters away. Garrus' hands clenched around the wheel and jerked it to the side yet again to avoid hitting it. With his attention solely on the road, Ashley was his eyes and ears when it came to what the thresher maw was doing. She let out a strangled cry before yelling for him to go, go faster, to hurry up and why the hell was he going so slow?

The Mako tipped, favoring Ashley's side. A vile stench met both of their noses, one of venom and bile and rotten meat. Garrus managed to right the car again but not before noticing that some of the toxic venom had eaten through the car, making a small hole in the metal. He swore when Ashley warned him of another incoming attack and he tried his damndest to avoid this one. Somehow he managed to skate away from the main glob of goo but he hadn't counted on the splatter effect. More of it splashed on the Mako, some even shooting through the previously made hole and onto Garrus' armor.

There was no time to think of the melting capabilities of the toxic goo that was sizzling through high-performance plastic and metal. He ordered Ashley to shoot mercilessly, which she did for a few seconds until all the sensors started blaring at them because the machinery was overheating. Offensive capabilities currently at a standstill, Garrus had no option but to turn to evasive maneuvers. All Garrus could do was try to strafe around the worm while looking for a way to reach an exit, per Shepard's orders.

Nobody expected to see Shepard arrive to the scene on foot, panting heavily from the heat and the long run she had to make. She kept a safe distance from the pissed maw, but considering she was on foot and without the Mako's protection her distance made little difference. One shot from the thresher maw, one well-aimed attack, and she was done for.

Garrus tried to ensure that the thresher's attention was on him and not Shepard, but Shepard's barrage of bullets in the worm's direction did nothing to assist his efforts. The fact that she was also circling along the same path of the Mako forced Garrus to stop and consider other methods of distraction, which included parking and firing in the hopes that it would provide an easy target for the maw to chase after. Neither of these methods worked, since now the thing was mostly concerned with the annoying, non-stop volley coming from the miniscule human at its base.

It burrowed down again and all was deathly silent once more. Even from this distance, Garrus could see Shepard's helmeted head swiveling around madly, searching hard for her escaped prey. Her head stopped, aiming towards their car, and then their comm system crackled into life.

"Get the hell out of there!"

It wasn't Shepard's voice that cried over their communication systems, but rather the two-timbered shout of Garrus. He was on the edge of panic as he saw the ground rise, almost imperceptibly, near Shepard's feet. He didn't know if she could feel it or not but he wasn't going to give her the benefit of the doubt this time around.

Not when it mattered so much.

She heeded his warning and tumbled to the side, not managing to gracefully catch herself like she usually could. She stumbled before regaining her feet, an action costing her precious seconds that she could have used to run like mad to save her very mortal life. Still, she burst into a wild dash that took her just out of reach of the maw's entryway. Once surfaced, it was less than twenty feet away from where Shepard was – and it was facing her, mouth ajar, all too aware of her presence.

Sprinting still, she tried to get further from her spirited foe. Williams was shooting goddamn missiles again between bouts of machine gun fire while Garrus slammed the pedal of the Mako down onto the ground in an attempt to get between the maw and the commander.

He couldn't get there in time.

It spit, sending another ball of acid at the ground. This time, though, it wasn't aimed at their vehicle; rather, it was at Shepard. Somehow she found enough stamina to go into an all-out sprint that carried her just beyond the main blast, but that damn splatter still got to her. She fell to the ground, grasping her arm, and from this distance it didn't look good.

But she wasn't about to go down without a fight: her pride demanded more from her than that. Her main arm was compromised so instead she lifted her gun with her left hand. She stood, though her stance was uneven, and unleashed another stream of bullets while circling tight around the maw. Her movement was slow, irregular – her leg was limping behind her and her right arm was only useful to help cradle the bottom of her gun.

Still she soldiered on.

Being so close to the maw made it hard for it to attack her properly, so Shepard was given the advantage there. The attacks from the Mako were helping, too, and the thresher's attention seemed torn between the tiny soldier at his feet and the larger threat of the Mako in the distance. It turned long enough to survey its metallic enemy that was perched on a slight hill and opened its mouth to ready another projectile of spit.

It never got the chance to follow through.

Shepard, out of bullets in her sixth clip, yanked out another and thrust it into her rifle. She ripped through the maw with this set, having softened its armor enough with all her attacks earlier, and the maw let out an ear-piercing scream that signaled its defeat. Rather unceremoniously it fell to the ground, limp and unmoving, with Shepard glaring at it from its side.

While Garrus stomped on the accelerator to reach Shepard more quickly, he saw her load another fresh clip into her rifle. He heard the gunshots reverberate through the desolate landscape and he wondered if she thought the maw still lived.

He pulled up to the side and, without coming to a complete stop, Garrus opened the door and hopped out, jogging to remain upright. While approaching the Commander he saw Shepard's gun run out of ammo and, despite this, she was still holding the trigger in. She pressed the trigger for a full five seconds before reloading it, an action that she performed without blinking.

So many rounds wasted on this dead thing, but Shepard didn't care. Normally she was so careful with her ammo, aware of how it was used so that she wouldn't have to waste it, and yet here she was…

Garrus stood by her, glancing sideways in her direction. Even beneath the helmet he could see how her face was contorted in an unbecoming expression of the purest rage that he had ever seen.

For once he understood what it must be like to be her enemy. Those who crossed her ended up like this thresher maw – deliberately drawn out and hunted so it could die a brutal death in the way that she deemed appropriate.

Then his eyes fell on her arm and leg and his breath caught in his chest.

The acid had melted through her armor despite the thickness of the material. Some of it even managed to reach her skin, which explained the limping and the usage of her left hand – those parts affected were raw, with deep gouges burned into her flesh with shining blisters already forming around the main wound. Other parts of her skin nearby seemed to be…bubbling. He didn't know how long it would keep eating away at her and he wasn't about to find out.

"Shepard."

His forceful tone didn't reach her. The bullets kept coming, and when one clip was emptied it was tossed to the ground to be replaced by another. If her weapon overheated, the safety locks would kick in though she paid that no heed, either. Her finger pulled the trigger back at all times, waiting for all the bullets to empty before she moved again.

The head of the maw was riddled with holes: it was a gory mess by this point, but it didn't stop her. The brains splattering her armor, her raw skin and the fetid stench of dead thresher and burning flesh didn't bother her in the slightest. She never even flinched at the incessant ringing of bullets through the air.

"Shepard," Garrus tried again, raising his hand to rest on her back. She forcibly pushed him away and finished off the bullets that she had, then reached into her pockets to search for more. She came up empty-handed after having used up everything she had. She didn't know what to do then, so she opted for hitting the thing's eye with the butt of her rifle, venting her hurt and anger in the only way she seemed to know how.

This action was more than her new wounds could handle. He watched as her burns stretched to their limit before splitting even more, bleeding more profusely and inviting all sorts of infections into her system. He knew she'd be pissed if he interrupted her again but he also didn't want her to bleed out because he was too afraid of a punch to the face. Left with little choice, Garrus used his strengths to his advantage: superior might and his skills in hand-to-hand were used to disarm Shepard, a skill he was clearly superior in so long as he wasn't surprised.

She turned on him, her countenance so serious that he thought he was looking upon Death herself. She was stony still, barely breathing, and the look she gave him was icier than any planet he had yet traversed. He didn't know what to expect, wasn't sure if she was viewing him as a concerned friend or an enemy that needed to be destroyed. He felt like the Shepard he knew was gone and replaced with a murderous maniac that had never considered him to be an ally.

Her eyes never left him, not even when she slowly raised her hand to activate her comm to call for Joker. Then, with a low growl, she told Garrus to get into the shuttle.

He obeyed without a word, thankful that his life had been spared and that she had, at least, stopped wasting precious bullets on an already dead foe. He quickly made his way back to the car and ignored Ashley's wide, helmeted eyes. His own gaze was downcast as Shepard reentered the Mako and prepared for liftoff.

An hour of thick silence crawled by. They were now sitting in the shuttle, flying through space towards their prized ship so that they could heal up and try and relax or, in Garrus' case, try and figure out what the hell happened with the thresher maw and Shepard.

Shepard sat opposite of the other two and was doing her best to ignore both. Ashley, for her part, was being smart and was either sleeping or pretending to sleep to avoid the uptight atmosphere. Garrus was far from tired and kept his eyes glued on the scene of stars swirling past them.

His mind kept replaying what he had seen earlier, mostly the look on Shepard's face as she beat the maw beyond its death. It had distressed him in a way that he didn't understand, possibly because he had only ever envisioned Shepard as the disturbingly chaotic and overly-outgoing Commander and friend that he had encountered so far. This was a new side to her, one that he hated to see and hoped to never see again.

Damage had also been done to their friendship, of that he was sure. The hate-filled glare she gave him was an indication that he had not done the right thing by interrupting her, but what else could he have done? Sat by and watch her destroy herself?

His eyes traveled to her to assess the harm on her body but he froze when her dark depths of green pinned on to him. Something he didn't understand was bubbling beneath the surface, wanting to burst out of its confines to express itself, but she managed to withhold the biting words this time around. "You're hurt," she stated bluntly, nodding towards his chest and arm. He looked down, mildly surprised to see acid wounds that were similar to Shepard's on his arm, though they were to a much lesser extent. He hadn't noticed them before, during all the chaos and action and thinking.

"Looks like we have a matching pair." He tried to make his words sound playful. It didn't work.

She grunted a little, turning her head away to look out the window. Garrus sighed but didn't bother to voice his frustrations. He knew he'd receive nothing but the silent treatment for a few days, at the least.

Given that those were his thoughts, he was rather shocked when he saw Shepard grab a tube of medi-gel and change her seat so she was sitting next to Garrus' injuries. She was limping and her range of movement seemed limited, but her stubbornness prevailed.

"You're a goddamn stupid turian," she hissed quietly so Williams wouldn't wake. "I mean, disarming me? _Me?_ Really?" She shook her head. "I thought about shooting you in the head after you did it. I want you to know that."

He didn't know what to say. He had assumed she would have wanted to, but to hear the affirmation of his suspicions…

"Worst part was that you knew I was thinking it, and you didn't do a damn thing about it." A large glob of the gel oozed into her good hand, then her eyes met Garrus' expectantly. "You made me feel like shit when you gave me those pathetic puppy-dog eyes. Bet that was your plan all along. Take this off," she added, knocking his chest plate with her shoulder, still mostly preoccupied with her mumblings and mutterings.

"Shouldn't you be the one getting this treatment? I mean—"

"I know you want to see me naked, Garrus, but I believe I gave _you_ that order."

He did as she commanded though he really wanted to argue that, technically, she wasn't his CO and so he didn't have to take her orders at all. The motion of unlatching his armor and pulling it off made his skin pull taut around his wound, making him wince in pain. He hadn't expected to see his undershirt scorched and bloodied, either, so that was another surprise for the day.

"That needs to come off, too." She indicated the undershirt. He did his best to imitate her arched eyebrow when asking if this was some sort of ploy to get him in bed so she could kill him in private, to which she responded with a casual 'maybe'. After a brief hesitation on his part, he complied to her wishes yet again.

He tried to avoid her gaze while she slathered on the medi-gel, not at all comfortable with the situation or how it developed. Words were failing him, too – what should he say at a time like this? Should he address the situation and what had happened, or should he try to allay the tension that had built up over the past hour and a half with whatever humor he could muster?

"Shepard," he said uncertainly, still avoiding her eyes altogether. She stopped her movements, watching him carefully as he worked his mouth and tried to find the right way to phrase his thoughts. He sighed and decided to be straightforward: it was the way their relationship had worked since day one, after all. "Do you think I look like a dinosaur?"

Even though he had wanted to confront her about what had happened, he figured now wasn't the best time. Now was the time for them to try and settle down after a stressful day where each of them could have died thirteen times over. Maybe later, when their friendship wasn't balancing on the edge of a precarious precipice, he could ask the tough questions and try to pry for answers. Now, though, he only wanted to see a smile on her face, not that look of anguish and hate or the current expression of resigned weariness.

A weird flutter of joy flooded him when his question was rewarded with a quirk of the brow and a grin.


	12. PalaveNet, Round Two

**PalaveNet Search Engine**

 **Enter Search Parameters Below.  
**

23:37:14 – what happened on akuze?


	13. Akuze

Fifty men.

Dead.

Fifty men that were under Shepard, all of whom she knew well, were dead. All it took was one night and some unfortunate circumstances to forever change Shepard and her life, as well as the lives of the families left behind.

Many of those families resented Shepard, if the articles dedicated to shaming her meant anything. They thought she was a coward, someone who ran away from the chaos as soon as it began so she could save her own skin, somebody that was perfectly willing to leave her subordinates behind. It seemed like there was a decent following for this course of thought, and many said they contacted Shepard personally about their issues to see if anything would be _resolved_. Some pages even sported a handy link that would copy her contact information, which had mysteriously been leaked, into a new message, for added convenience.

Garrus didn't know the details of what happened on Akuze: the intelligence reports were surprisingly brief and left out too many details. It was sketchy, and because of that he could understand the cynicism of the families of those lost. But to blame Shepard for the deaths of those fifty men, to call her a liar and a coward and demand that she be removed from the ranks of the military...wasn't that a bit extreme? Unfair, even?

There were articles from newspapers on Earth and videos of reporters swarming a much younger Shepard, all asking the same questions: what happened? How were you the only one who survived? Did you leave the other men behind? How can you sleep at night?

He was surprised to see how different she was in these videos, how her calm and cool demeanor shone through instead of the snark and sarcasm that he was used to. She would answer in a slow and careful tone that the matter was considered confidential and, for the sake of the families involved, she would not divulge any information about the incident. That which could be shared was already available for the public eye to see and, so, there was nothing further for her to say.

The reporters would argue, of course, saying that the only reason more wasn't public knowledge was because Shepard wasn't giving the details. She would only shoot those reporters a cool glare and dismiss herself, walking away from the cacophony of the media. There were numerous videos like this, all at different times and places, and she would respond the same way each time. The only thing that changed was the amount of contempt in her gaze.

Doing a few more searches, Garrus was able to find very few videos and pictures of Shepard before the incident on Akuze. He was surprised to see how youthful and round her face used to be, the brightness and joy in her face, the auburn hair that flowed over her shoulder and the optimism that she seemed to have for her new career. It was a stark contrast to the hunted and haunted look on her face in the interviews he had watched. There was a definite change of pace before and after Akuze and there was little doubt as to what the catalyst could have been.

Fifty men dying under your command was an unthinkable thing to have to endure. The guilt must have been unbearable, and it gave him a sense of understanding when he considered how careful she was on missions with her crew. Of course she wouldn't want more men to die on her watch: she had already lost more than most leaders could fathom.

This helped to put the thresher maw incident into a brighter light, too. She hated those things, that much was obvious, but now it was easier to see why. It had changed her and, in some ways, killed the woman she used to be. She had become someone unrecognizable after that occurrence. Her old life and way of thinking could never be reclaimed.

As Garrus stirred his turian goop around on his plate, he tried to imagine what it would be like to lose so many men who served under him. How would he have handled it in her stead? Would he become like Shepard, a strong and capable warrior with only a couple screws loose? Or would he fall into a pit of self-loathing and hate, one where escape was unlikely?

He scrolled down the page, reading another rant about Shepard's mission. This one was from one of the fallen soldier's cousins, an unlikely source for such a passionate display. If Garrus were to make a guess, this cousin was only in on this for the attention since, unlike other sites, barely any mention was made of the relative who had died on Akuze.

The page contained nothing new. It was more rants about the government, about the military, about Shepard being an inept leader. She should resign, offer an apology, give up her money, shoot herself…

Disgusting.

"Got something interesting on there, Vakarian?"

His head snapped to the side to see Shepard leaning over his shoulder, her eyes scanning over the article on his screen. All too quickly her upturned lips twitched into a scowl. "Well, damn. Here I was, thinking I'd caught you looking at dirty turian pictures, but instead of something amazing like that I find you looking up idiotic shit like this."

"Shepard, I—"

"Nope." She pat him roughly on the shoulder before leaving him to talk with a few of her other crewmates. Her back was turned to him the entire time, making it impossible to gauge what she may have been thinking.

Garrus could only stare at her back, wishing he could think of something to say to her to help the situation. No words were coming into his head at first, as he had been too surprised by her entrance, and he was left sitting in his chair with a stupid expression on his face.

His dumb stare followed her as she traveled to the food bar and got herself a bite to eat and then, with confident steps, she brought herself back to Garrus' table and sat down opposite of him. Her eyes crinkled from a forced smile, friendly but unfamiliar, and she watched Garrus expectantly for some time before she sighed and took a bite into a sandwich. "So, do tell me what kind of fascinating information you've been finding."

He hesitated, trying to figure out if a serious reply or a Shepard-like one would do more good. The latter seemed more promising. "From my research I determined that humans could give the volus a run for their money in the 'opportunistic bastards' department."

Her stare made him shift uneasily. It lasted several seconds before she relented and chuckled at his words, an action that made him give silent thanks to whoever was watching out for him. "Oh, if only you knew the extent of it."

That was, seemingly, the end of the awkwardness on her part. She was back to smiling contentedly and picking away at her non-goop food. She'd comment on random things that prompted short conversations or laugh at something she overheard from halfway across the room. It was a familiar scene for Garrus, all too welcome after thinking things would go back to being bad between them. Then again, this was Shepard, and she could just be doing what she did best to avoid any unpleasantness during a meal.

Shepard finished her food before Garrus, so he had an audience as he tried to slurp down the rest of the entirely unappetizing crap on his platter. Maybe it was the face he was making or simply the fact that there was food in front of her that wasn't being enjoyed, but it didn't take long for Shepard to help herself to a small spoonful of his fare. It made him feel a little better when she spit it back out into a napkin and grimaced. "God, you eat that? You should have told me how awful this crap is. I'd have bought you something else." She dropped her spoon and crossed one leg over another, her intensity returning tenfold. She was done toying around for now. "Why are you looking at those articles, Garrus? If you wanted to know something, you should have asked."

Perhaps he shouldn't have done it, but it couldn't be helped: he rolled his eyes. "Please, Shepard. You're impossible to get answers from if the question is about you."

"I always answer the questions. Try listening."

"Damn it, Shepard. You're impossible to talk to sometimes and everyone knows it."

She seemed offended. "If I were any easier, I'd be the whore of conversations."

"That didn't even make sense."

"It would if you tried listening." She stopped and shrugged. "Or if you were human."

He blinked at her. "No, I'm pretty sure that it still wouldn't make much sense."

She blinked back with a childish, insolent grin on her lips. "You're a goddamn dinosaur. What do you know?"

She seemed pleased by his annoyance: that was a trait he had yet to get used to. She always enjoyed pressing people's buttons – especially when she herself was unhappy with the person in front of her. He had no doubt that this was the case, but still…a dinosaur? That was a low blow.

But he wasn't about to let her win.

"Ouch. You hurt my feelings there, Shepard."

" _Dinosaur_ feelings, Garrus. _Dinosaur_ feelings. Those don't count."

Garrus sighed in frustration and sat back in his chair, furiously stirring his remaining food. Did he feel sorry for her a little while ago? If he did, he took it back.

She was an exasperating woman, one of the most aggravating creatures he ever had the misfortune of stumbling across. She knew all the buttons to press with him, knew what made him want to explode and lose his cool like he had done in his office the same day he had met her.

He had one damn friend in this shitty excuse of a galaxy and she was it. Why couldn't she act the part? Why couldn't she talk to him like he could to her? Why was this all so lopsided? He didn't want a lot, maybe just the chance to help her just as much as she had helped him. Was that too much to ask from a woman like this?

Was this how humans typically worked through a friendship? It could have been a difference in species, but…no, no, that didn't make sense. Even Alenko had commented about this side of Shepard before, so it couldn't have been something that was wrong with humans as a whole.

It was just her.

She coughed and made his attention snap back to that stupid smirk that she always donned. She knew she had won, and she was taking pleasure in it. A moment to gloat was all she needed before her upturned lips faded into a thin line – she was all seriousness once again. "What do you want to know about Akuze? What are you looking for?"

He was caught off-guard by her words, not really knowing if this was another trap of hers to tick him off or if she was being genuine. Since she had that look on her face, it was probably genuine but, still…

"I wanted to know what happened there," he said, not looking directly at her. He was steeling himself for the possibility of a stupid answer that was only going to make him more agitated.

"Well? What did you find out?"

Ah. So she wasn't necessarily going to give answers then, was she?

"I found out the same story that was given to everybody else. There were some interviews given by you, as well as the public statements that said the same thing you did, so, all in all, there wasn't a lot of information."

She nodded, her lips pressed tightly together. "What more needs to be known to satisfy your curiosity?"

 _I want to know what happened. I want to know your story._

Her eyes darkened at his lack of a response. "Do you want to know how we got overwhelmed by maws outside of their territory? Do you want to know why we weren't prepared for them? How the fight played out? The names and ranks of the men with me? How they all died?" She gave a snort of disgust at her own question, then lowered her voice further so nobody else could hear. "Everybody wants to know how they died, but nobody gives a shit about the actual person. They want their questions answered without thinking about the consequences of that answer. It's not about the soldier who's lost, it never is. Some claim that the answer will bring closure while others say it's their right to know how their son or daughter died. Fuck them."

Her eyes were dangerous, flashing terribly in the artificial light of the ship. Garrus was as captivated by the sight as he was intimidated. He was being drawn in to her wrath without really understanding why, and all too soon he found that same cold fury that was rushing through her was permeating his veins, too. "You have a sister, Solona, right? Imagine I took her with me to Akuze. Would you really want to know that she got ripped in half and would have died a slow, agonizing death? Would you want to know that I shot her, per her request, to spare her from it? Would that bring any sense of closure to the incident? It does nothing but tarnish the memory that you would have had of her. Instead of remembering all the good times you had, you'd picture her lying in pieces on the battlefield with chaos surrounding her. You'd try to imagine her as she was lying there with my gun pressed to her head, try to hear her pleading for me to pull the trigger. She wouldn't want you to think about that, and I'm going to honor her wish even if it went unstated."

He was nodding at her words while unease settled in his stomach. He had so many questions to ask, but the most pressing one on his mind was what he chose to ask first. "Did…that happen, Shepard?"

"Does it change anything if it didn't?"

Silence.

She stretched out in her chair, taking a sip from her cup as she idly looked around the mess hall with a blank expression. He cursed her ability to craft those walls so quickly, those walls that prevented anyone from ever really reaching her.

 _Within reach but always untouchable._

Her head lazily lolled back towards him, a misplaced smile on her face. She sat forward, resting her head on clasped hands, and stared at him until he became a little uncomfortable. "You haven't asked what I was doing during the fight."

"I know you. I know what you'd have been doing. Asking that would just be a waste of breath."

She seemed pleased by this reply and nodded once, sharply, in his direction before her eyes wandered off again. She was thinking hard about one thing or another, that much he could tell. She was biting the inside of her cheek, jiggling her leg up and down, and looking altogether incapable of sitting still. With a heavy sigh she forced herself up to her feet, placing her hands on the table and leaning forward. "I just remembered I have some shit to do. We'll talk tomorrow." Without waiting for further confirmation from him, she turned on her heel and marched to her room.

Garrus tilted his chair back, his eyes hovering on the door that she had exited through. He wasn't sure what more they had to talk about but he felt anxious about whatever the topic was going to be.

With little else to do, he returned his tray to the kitchen and left for his room.

Once within his cramped quarters he went through the regular routine of getting himself prepared for sleep. Twenty minutes passed before he left the community restroom and sat himself down on the edge of a hard, short mattress. He opened his omni-tool and searched for something in his library to read but was interrupted when a familiar screen popped up to inform him of a new message that came in while he had been showering.

Believing it would be an overdue update from Solona, Garrus quickly confirmed that he wanted to open the message and read it himself. He felt a slight bit of disappointment when he saw that it wasn't from her, but his mood inflated quickly thereafter when he read "Shepard, Jane" in the sender's line. He was even more surprised to see that this message was sent only to him. Usually a message from her went to a majority of the crew or the six who traveled with her. Only one or two other messages had been sent to him and him alone.

Another press of the button and the contents of the letter were his to read.

 _"I didn't run away. I didn't hide. I didn't save my own ass at the expense of everyone else. You were the first one who never bothered to ask me because, as you said, you already knew the answer. You're the first person to think that – or at least the first person to say it. I wanted to answer a few things as thanks._

 _"I was given a scary reputation and a promotion for my deeds on Akuze. Unofficially I was hated by most of the families of my soldiers because I was the only one who made it out of there in one piece. Of course I'm going to look suspicious, but the brass didn't want to listen when I passed along the advice to keep the situation under wraps. We should have said Akuze was a raid by Batarians or something along those lines. It was more likely than a full-scale assault by thresher maws, especially since we'd been having problems with Batarians in that area._

 _"The brass said that the events of Akuze would make the Alliance look good; after all, we went in to investigate the colony and that shows compassion, right? They didn't count on all the impossible and improbable things, all the missing details that they had to leave out or that I opted not to share. They didn't think it would come back to bite them in the ass. Unlike them, I lived in the real world. I knew what would happen to me, to the Alliance, if word – or the lack thereof – were to spread. But nobody listened._

 _"I could have told everyone what happened to their sons and daughters to clear my name, but do you think the people really would have wanted the truth? Having them despise me is preferable to having to sit down and tell my men's mothers what had happened. Do you really think a mother wants to hear that her son went ballistic and shot at everyone, killing three of the remaining six men and injuring the other two before I shot and killed him? People don't want the truth. They can say that they demand it, that it's their right to know, but in the end they'd much rather sit there and blame somebody than find out that their son wasn't capable enough to handle the life they signed up for._

 _I don't expect you to understand everything or agree with my way of thinking, but that doesn't change how grateful I am to you. I never imagined that a turian could be a friend, but I'm thankful that I was wrong. Maybe you're more evolved than I thought._

 _-Shepard._


	14. Compassionate

Garrus stared at his screen for some time, comprehending that this letter was far more than a synopsis of her thoughts and the events behind them. Despite her claim otherwise, Garrus was certain that she _was_ trying to be understood by someone she considered a friend. It had probably been the first time she had ever discussed these things, and maybe she was seeking forgiveness or trying to make sense of the injustices she had endured. Hell, he didn't know for sure, but he knew that his perception of Shepard had certainly changed.

So many things made much more sense now, even the small details like her punching the lights out of the reporter on the Citadel. She had no tolerance for them, for their maddening attempts to sensationalize a story at the expense of truth, and once she was freed from the shackles of the Alliance she made sure to let her feelings be known.

His eyes wandered over her confession a second time, rereading the words and hoping that a deeper understanding of Shepard would come from them. The last few paragraphs stuck out the most in his mind, troubling him and touching him in a deep way.

What must it be like, he wondered, to have such a hard view of the universe? To think so little of the beings that existed there that she couldn't even trust them with the truth?

She was so willing to accept the blame for the deaths of those fifty men from the families of those she bled with. What would it feel like to know that the family of one you held dear wrongfully hated you? Perhaps she believed she deserved their hate, or maybe she was so strongly rooted in her beliefs that she couldn't care less what others thought. Before he would have figured that the latter was the more plausible for her, but now he simply didn't know.

Still, though, her reasoning for following the path she had taken - from refraining from speaking the truth about the events and deaths that occurred on Akuze - seemed oddly compassionate. In all his time of knowing her, compassion was something he had seen rarely, and even then it was only to the members of her crew that worked with her regularly; people like Liara and himself. To be willing to cast suspicion upon her own name just to spare the family of some marines the awful truth of how each man died…that was something else.

Maybe it was why she was so unwilling to show the compassionate side of herself now. It wasn't worth the effort anymore, not after the backlash then.

His fingers hovered over the keys of the keyboard, not really sure what to type back to her. He thought about it for awhile but nothing good or appropriate came to mind. Minutes passed and still his message was blank.

Then his fingers moved without his permission and sent out a letter with only four words: " _Can we talk now?"_

He stared at the screen while he waited breathlessly for a response. Time ticked by – was it that close to morning already? – before he got a response.

 _"I'm trying to get my beauty rest."_ He could imagine the annoyance that she would have said it with, the way she would have stressed _trying_ while giving him a signature glare…

Garrus grunted and tossed himself back into his bed. The bed and covers were so short that he felt like he had crawled into a child's sleeping quarters, and then the utterly tasteless crap he had eaten earlier was wreaking havoc in his stomach and his mind was flashing with the horrible imaginings of what must have happened…

This was going to be one of those nights where he wasn't going to get any sleep.

He wanted to talk to Shepard but he wasn't sure what it was that he wanted to discuss. It was probably for the best that she couldn't come – he'd probably do something dumb like that pat-on-the-back thing that humans found comforting and make a fool of himself. He didn't even know the proper procedure that humans used for comfort, really. Was a pat on the back good for one type of grief, while a shoulder grip was useful for another? What about hugs, embraces, forehead kisses, those types of things? When was each one appropriate? And even if they were appropriate for the situation, would Shepard even want that? She didn't seem like she'd be responsive to physical stimuli of that nature…

The fact that she was another species made things so much more complicated. If she were a turian then he could have handled it. He knew protocols for comfort among his own kind. It would be easier to relate, because he grew up knowing the types of thoughts and emotional processes that turians dealt with in these types of situations. Humans, however, were the new variable in the galaxy and most species didn't know how to handle them. Hell, the human species itself seemed to suck at dealing with each other.

But then, would any turian want to talk about how they lost fifty soldiers under their command? Or the carnage that followed up to such loss? It was nightmarish stuff and…he didn't know. He probably wouldn't want to discuss it much either.

He gave a sigh and looked back at Shepard's message, his eyes resting momentarily on the 'sender' line. Never before had it dawned on him that she would have a name other than what the military referred to her as. That her first name was a mystery to him hadn't crossed his mind until he read it again.

Jane Shepard.

It was a common enough name for a human woman – a common name for an extraordinary person. Maybe it was fitting, in its own way.

Eyes now roved down to the reply screen, his fingers pressing the keys that would give Shepard the sarcastic response she was undoubtedly waiting for: " _Beauty sleep? Do you ever get enough of that?"_

 _"It's not like you get enough of it, either. You've always been ugly."_ She couldn't have been very sleepy, judging by the speed of her replies and the general lack of spelling or grammatical errors.

" _That almost hurt my feelings."_

 _"Your dinosaur feelings?"_

Did he say he wanted to be pleasant? He took it back. " _Remind me tomorrow to beat you with that stick that's up my ass."_

 _"I look forward to seeing you try. Goodnight, Garrus."_

 _"It's morning."_

 _"Well, fuck a duck. You're right."_

 _"I'm always right. Goodnight to you, too, Jane."_


	15. compassionate?

"We all need to stay calm."

It had been, what, five minutes ago that she had said that? If he really wanted to give her credit, Garrus would say that it might have been six minutes. Maybe even seven.

Definitely not eight.

They had been progressing through some unknown ship that Shepard had gotten a transmission from Hackett about. Garrus knew by the strained smile and tense muscles that she was ready to kill the first thing that moved, that she couldn't wait for the chance to, but still she told them to "keep calm". Not once, but several times she repeated the mantra.

So far she'd done well – she hadn't been excessive with her killing and her violence; she'd barely even registered the fights at all. She was reserving her energy, it seemed – hunting prey that only she knew about with a level of stealth and sharpness that was mildly terrifying.

They entered a side chamber, an empty one, and Shepard began to turn to leave. Suddenly she froze, considered her thoughts, and turned stiffly on her heels, her eyes locking on to a terminal tucked into the far corner. She sat there, gazing at it with intense, narrowed eyes before bursting into motion.

Two hands landed on the table in front of her and she used her strength to propel herself up and over the obstacle. Tali and Garrus opted to step six inches to the side and walk around, even as Shepard jogged to the blinking computer in front of her. She stared intently at the screen, not looking as her hand blindly groped for a chair. The other hand, almost of its own volition, began to press random icons.

"Shepard-" Tali began, but her words were cut short by an upraised hand.

"It's an easy encryption. I got this."

Twenty seconds later she was cursing vehemently under her breath, the words "LOCKED OUT" stamped on the screen.

Tali silently edged to her side and slapped some omni-gel in just the right place, probably doing everything she could to keep from muttering a well-deserved "bosh'tet".

"That's why I have you around," Shepard said amicably, offering a tight smile before she began scanning over the newly available documents at her disposal. Of course she had already copied most of the files, but something propelled her to learn more _now._ She quickly scanned through dozens of files, sighing impatiently before closing each one. She kept trying to remind herself to be calm, and at times it soothed her flaring temper.

Then…

Then she found it.

Garrus didn't know what the information was that she unearthed – nor did he ever find out – but soon her calming mantra became a naked fist slamming through the screen, her other fist pummeling nigh-indestructible metal mercilessly. One hand got tangled with the wires of a computer and, without pausing, she threw her hardware-enclosed fist towards the wall, slamming the shell of the computer into cold metal. Her hand, now freed from its broken prison, moved on to flipping tables and chairs, slamming her fist against the wall, and putting several bullets into the sparkling technology lying broken at her feet.

"Shep—"

"I am going to kill that motherfucking scientist, Garrus." Her voice was crisp, cool, and oddly polite, even as she threw a glass frame to the ground. "I am going to put a bullet into his brains. I'm going to watch him die. And when I need to get off—"

"Please tell me you'll think of me. I'm afraid to hear of the other option."

He watched the cold smile spread across her lips while ignoring her eyes. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

With that, she stepped over her created mess, slammed the button to open the door opposing them and, without a breath's pause, she delivered on her promise.

Only there were two shots instead of one.

And two bodies with gaping holes in their brains.

"Shepard," Tali gasped when she peered over the commander's shoulder. "What are you doing? You don't even know-"

She nodded towards the man on the left. "Corporal Toombs, member of my squad on Akuze. Believed to be dead, but obviously not. This son-of-a-bitch here," she added, nonchalantly aiming her gun towards the man in the white lab coat, "is Doctor Wayne. Responsible, in no small part, for the massacre of my squad and subsequent examinations of Toombs. Both deserved to die, and I hate to disappoint."

"The hell do you mean, 'deserved'?" Garrus pointed at the emaciated body of the soldier on the ground. "He's been through hell!"

"Wayne didn't deserve to live after taking the lives of fifty men. Toombs deserved a better life than this. If I let him go, he'd never be the same. It'd be a disservice to the soldier he used to be."

"You don't know that!" Tali interjected, pointing a solitary finger at Shepard.

Hard eyes turned on Tali. "Some ghosts never stop haunting you. Some wounds don't heal over time. You don't watch friends die without it scarring you. You don't get tortured for years without it destroying a part of who you are. Toombs didn't deserve the hand he was dealt. Now he has a chance to be dealt a better one." With that she knelt down next to her old teammate and closed his bloodied eyes, resting a hand on his shoulder afterwards. Her mouth moved, silently uttering words that only the dead could hear. Her broken, ragged hands moved down to clasp the soldier's, her lips drawn into a thin line.

And then, from where she knelt, she quickly drew her pistol and shot the scientist once more.

Then she stood, turned her back, and left through the door.

Tali and Garrus noiselessly followed, neither daring to even look at each other. He knew Tali would be protesting what she had just witnessed but, in Garrus' eyes, what Shepard said made some sense, even if her brutality was a little extreme. She was living proof of her own words, after all. She had been eternally changed in one night – became a walking time bomb of pent-up fury, of vengeance. She was the Arbiter of Justice and Angel of Death for everything that stood between her and her goals.

Somehow, he knew that she was destined for greatness. But a part of him feared what she'd do if fate and power were thrust into her unforgiving hands.


	16. Her Krogan

**A/N: Well...you _were_ warned about the time skipping...**

* * *

Virmire.

It was a hot, humid, lush landscape, the likes of which Garrus had never seen. It was comfortable enough for him, as he had never minded humidity, and the surroundings were something a guy like him could get lost in for awhile. Danger was well-hidden, he was sure, and made the thought of exploring the terrain that much more appealing.

As they were descending Shepard's eyes surveyed their upcoming battleground and wiped sweat from her forehead. "Looks like Florida."

Kaidan gave her a sideways glance, surprise etched onto his face. "Been there before?"

"Yeah." She strapped her guns onto her back, loaded her pistol, grimaced. "I hate Florida."

They made a rough landing in the _Mako_ and began their wild ride towards the entrenched Salarians that were on the far side of the island. Heavy resistance met them at every turn but it was nothing that Shepard's insane driving couldn't handle. Anything that moved could and would be hit by the massive car – even the harmless creatures that floated innocently near their path. In fact, she took special pleasure in hitting them, going out of her way to slam on the breaks and throw the side of her car into their bag-like bodies.

"This seems highly unnecessary," Liara said through gritted teeth, her knuckles turning a very pale shade of blue from the grip she had on custom-built handles.

"These sons-of-bitches might try to steal my credits, too," Shepard yelled back. "I'm not taking any more chances."

Garrus knew that it would be pointless to argue with Shepard, especially considering she still held a bitter grudge against the thieving cow that they had met weeks before. She really hadn't taken any chances since then – space monkeys and gasbags alike met the same fate as the suspicious bovine.

Liara must have been thinking along the same lines as him because she said nothing further, either. Both endured the bumpy ride with practiced tolerance, though Liara still seemed to suffer from occasional bouts of nausea here and there.

A sharp left was taken and they rammed the front end of the vehicle into a vertical rock face. Taking advantage of the lack of action, Shepard turned around to look at her comrades in the back seat. "You know, this mission should be a cakewalk. I mean, so far the hardest part was nailing that stupid geth that had the rocket launcher." She put the car in reverse, started to back away from the wall. "Damn thing wouldn't sit still. Had to chase it around that rock for ages."

"I remember. Quiet vividly."

Urged by the dripping sarcasm in Liara's voice, Shepard looked to Liara with a stern glint in her eye. "If you don't like the way I do business, get out of my car. You can walk to the salarians."

"It'd be an easy walk," Garrus added, coughing to hide his laugh. "Shepard'll clear a path with the Mako and you can enjoy the scenery."

"I suppose I wouldn't mind that." Liara masterfully crafted a thoughtful expression. "Perhaps you'd like to join me on my walk there, Garrus?"

The accelerator was pushed flat to the floor, shoving all three back into their seats. Liara actually managed a chuckle despite the force that was pushing her. "Somebody didn't like that idea."

"No shit, Sherlock," Shepard muttered.

As naïve as she was, Liara still knew when to sit back and shut up. She looked over at Garrus, a knowing smile on her face, and shook her head. She settled into a satisfied silence that lasted the entire way to the STG encampment.

Once there they were reunited with the remaining members of the _Normandy_ on the sandy shores. Shepard busied herself with making plans, ignoring the increasingly aggravated krogan that was assessing the breeding grounds that they stood before. Garrus approached the commander, leaned in to whisper his words of caution and his own piece of advice.

She looked from him to Wrex and back again, her brow knit as she calculated something. She rubbed her chin, ran gloved fingers over the fuzzy rug on her head. Finally she held her hand out for Garrus to take. "A thousand credits says I can talk him down without shooting him."

He knew this was her way of assuring him that everything would be okay. He shook his head, held his hands in the air. "I know better than to bet against you, Shepard."

Fingers snapped in disappointment. "I thought you'd say that. Guess I'll have to try Ashley, maybe Tali. Everybody else would be mortified and offended and stuff."

"You really think Tali would be okay with that?"

Instead of a response, Shepard grinned at him and walked over to the masked crusader. No time was wasted on either end – Tali mentioned something to Shepard, which was ignored, and then Shepard offered her deal to Tali. He didn't know if the spunky quarian had any hesitations about the deal, wasn't sure if she'd voice her objections to the idea, but it only took seven seconds before she inserted her three-fingered palm into Shepard's five-fingered one and shook.

The commander did the same thing with Ashley, who hesitated a lot more than Tali did. Knowing Williams, it probably had nothing to do with the ethics of the bet and everything to do with doing the math to see if she'd be on the losing end of this deal. After a second she, too, grasped Shepard's hand and agreed to the terms.

Shepard walked briskly back to Garrus. "Poor Wrex. Nobody believes in him but me." She shook her head, slammed one fist into her palm. "Nobody thinks bad of my krogan and gets away with a full wallet."

Once all her business dealings were finished, she marched to her krogan and struck up the long-awaited conversation. Everybody's eyes turned to the two as their discussion became more heated and, when Wrex stomped uncomfortably close to Shepard, Garrus noticed that both Kaidan and Ashley had their hands on their guns, just to be ready.

They should have trusted Shepard enough to know it wasn't needed. In less than five minutes Shepard and Wrex had come to a mutual understanding, with Shepard slapping Wrex on the shoulder in a friendly manner before walking away. She gave Garrus a thumbs-up, then went over to Tali and Ashley to collect her loot. When she was finished she strolled back over to Garrus, her hands clasped behind her back with a beaming smile on her face.

"Nobody bets against me and wins." She shamelessly flashed her bank account balance at him and grinned. "Nobody."

Garrus crossed his arms over his chest and scoffed. "That sounded like a challenge, Shepard. I might have to take you up on that."

"You can take me up on it, but you won't win." Her face was glowing yellow while she pressed some buttons on her onmi-tool. "What kind of bet are you thinking about?"

He gave a throaty chuckle and lightly pat his gun. "I'm thinking a shooting contest."

The curl of her lips revealed just as much of her thoughts as the delighted, though arrogant, burst of laughter that emitted from her throat. "The only way you'd win is if I let you win. You couldn't hold a candle to my skills."

"Want to find out for sure?"

The screen of her omni-tool disappeared with a flourish of her hand. "Hell yes." As the others had done earlier, Garrus and Shepard shook their mismatched hands to seal the deal. "As soon as we get some free time, we're gonna shoot the shit out of something." She stuck her chin out in defiance. "And I'm going to bust your ass so bad after I win."


	17. After Virmire - The Right Decision

Shepard sat in her chair with her hands clasped together and her brow wrinkled in thought. She bumped her chin repeatedly with her knuckles, perhaps hoping it would inspire her to say something to lift the mood of her troops, but the stillness of the room pressed in on them instead.

Ashley had given Shepard nothing but grief for her decision on Virmire, a response that Shepard seemed to have expected. She explained her actions using perfectly cold logic, something that a woman like Ashley found hard to swallow but a turian like Garrus found to be entirely understandable and sound. Still Ashley argued, and continued to do so, until Shepard's patience with her wore thin.

"You are alive, Gunnery Chief, and Kaidan is not." Her tone was crisp and cool, forgoing all the friendliness she usually regarded Ashley with in favor of a more commanding tone that was appropriate for her office. She would not let Ashley forget who she was dealing with. "He was a soldier and went out with his boots on – that's a reality that he accepted the moment he signed up for this job. No matter how much you disagree with my decision, he's not coming back. Understood?"

More than anyone else now here, Garrus could see what was going through her head. He could see the regret written in each line around her eyes, could see her sorrow in the tightness of her mouth. Ghosts of the past resurfaced, bubbled to the forefront and threatened to eat her alive. She was a woman that was hurting after losing a man she cared for but she was still trying her damndest to be the Commander everyone expected her to be.

Ashley's body went stiff and her fist curled at her side, but she still managed to give the curt nod that Shepard was awaiting. "Yes, ma'am."

"Good. I'm glad you can see reason." She glanced around at the others, her gaze pointedly avoiding Garrus'. "You all have the remainder of the day to yourselves. Dismissed."

The others left swiftly, their heads bowed and eyes shadowed; their shoulders drooped heavily. Garrus was last to stand, waiting until everyone else was already out of the door. He looked to Shepard, waiting for his own personal dismissal. She never gave one.

She was staring at the ceiling, her eyes closed. Scarred, fragile-looking hands covered the curves of the armrests on her chair. She was still, rigid, and eerily calm. "I made the right decision," she said, reinforcing her words with intentional steel. Was she looking for confirmation from him, trying to see his opinion? Did she want to know if he would fight her, if he would say that they should have tried to save both Ashley and Alenko? Should she have let Tali go to try and save Kaidan, like the quarian begged to do?

"It was the only decision to make, Shepard." His voice rang of conviction: he had never been more sure of a single decision in his life. Everything she had done in this mission made perfect sense to him - it was probably the first time he was completely in sync with her since he had stepped on board this ship. Every movement, every shot, every call would have been what he'd do, were he leading their team. Not once did he question her, not even when she killed the mindless salarians that were pissing and drooling on themselves while locked inside the clear prison. No, every decision had been quickly, and perfectly, made.

He would do everything possible to let her see that.

"Going after Kaidan wouldn't have made sense." Her knuckles were tapping her chin again. "I'd have put the entire mission in jeopardy. I couldn't put other lives at risk when I knew there was no way the _Normandy_ could make both stops in time. Ashley was protecting the bomb, and that bomb was critical to the mission." Her eyes flitted away. "Going after him would have been selfish."

He sat back down next to her, thinking that she may want company while she convinced herself that she did the right thing. As he sat, she cocked her head to look at him. He saw the lost look in her eyes, the sadness, the anger and hate. Her world was filled with negativity; nothing good existed there.

He saw himself reflected in her eyes, saw that he was sitting forward with his hands clasped together. He wore an expression of thoughtful concern and consideration. Right now he was the only friend she had, and he wanted to do what he could to ease her pain.

"Second time I killed my lieutenant, you know. God help the guy who comes in to be the third." A bitter smile spread over her lips, one that rang of regret and pain.

Garrus didn't know how to react to that. He couldn't begin to fathom her pain. Yet, still, he wanted to try - it was the first time since they joined forces that he would be the one trying to comfort her. "You didn't kill him. Saren did. He forced your hand. None of this was your fault - you know it and I know it. "

"Yeah." She rubbed her chin fiercely, trying to stave off the emotions that were swirling within her. A moment later her wavering eyes were burning with fire, and the uncertainty she had expressed seemed to vanish in moments. "He's going to get a giant gun shoved up his ass for this. Then, once that's done, you're going to shoot his goddamn brains out."

He smiled at how easily she could force herself from the depths that she had sunk into, but a tiny part of him felt apprehensive about it at the same time. "Sounds like the best plan I've heard in years."

"Damn right. And you better believe that I expect you to deliver on this promise."

Eyes that were cold, hard, hopeful, landed on Garrus. He reached over and put a hand on her forearm like he had seen Kaidan do so often before. He didn't know the implications of the action, of what it meant to humans, but it seemed like the best choice for the moment. "I wouldn't miss it for the world."


	18. In the Rubble of the Citadel

Standing together in the rubble of the Citadel near the skeleton of _Sovereign_ was Garrus and Shepard. The others were rummaging around or talking nearby but the two of them, the officer and the Spectre, were the only two who were still in the chaos and the madness. Both held a gun in one hand, their other hand hanging idly at their side, their eyes hovering on the flames that licked the lower wards of the Citadel.

It would have been proper if Garrus had thought about the damage reports that were going to be filed, the paperwork that would need to be done, the rescue operations, the new recruits they'd need to look for to replace those lost in C-Sec, the various methods to be utilized to restore order…but every time he tried dwelling on those thoughts he felt as if he were considering the unimportant and insignificant things of the galaxy.

Just now, they had saved every known species from extinction. They had spared the Citadel from a Reaper's wrath. The Council had been saved, albeit at Garrus' firm insistence, and life would eventually continue on as it had been. Shepard had taken on the impossible and succeeded. Her name would go down in history as a savior, a hero. She was worthy of every ounce of respect that would be showered upon her in the days and years to come.

He, too, respected her like hell. He told her as much right then and added in that he was damned proud to have served under her during this trying time.

She looked puzzled at his words, cocking her head at him in wonder. "Who the hell said you served under me? Last I checked, you were at my side the whole time."

"Right." He took the compliment in stride, trying not to jitter around like a little girl who finally got praise from the person she admired most.

He watched as her attention shifted to the _Destiny Ascension_ as it silently slid towards the docks of the Citadel for emergency repairs. The Council was about to slink off the ship and thank Shepard for saving their lives, even though she would have preferred to watch the ship blow up in a blaze of glory after they had called her a lunatic. He envisioned the Turian Councilor swallowing his pride and muttering an indecipherable 'thank you' before coughing and making an excuse to leave.

Garrus grinned at the thought of the three bastards kissing Shepard's ass and told his imaginings to Shepard. She tried to grin but it became something more akin to a grimace. "I still don't get why these idiots are alive."

"Because you're a good person who wouldn't kill the three most important people in the galaxy for revenge?"

She thought about it, shook her head. "No, I'm pretty sure I'd kill the three most important people in the galaxy for revenge's sake. The galaxy needed to be rid of their stupidity."

He chuckled low and tapped his rifle affectionately for no apparent reason. "Hopefully we don't' regret this. I'll never hear the end of it."


	19. Lost

Though it had seemed he had permanently gotten away from paperwork after he had left C-Sec, he once again found himself sitting in front of a computer with files upon files of paperwork to fill out, make duplicates of, and send off to random places so people who didn't know Garrus could judge him and decide if he'd make a good Spectre. It was nerve-wracking and a little annoying, considering how he had just taken down Saren and everything like that. He should be at the head of the line, not begging for scraps at the bottom of the candidate pile.

Not long after their glorious victory, Garrus and Shepard had parted ways. Garrus promised her that, once he was a Spectre, he would join up with her and they'd terrorize the universe together and bring peace to the idiots that lived across the wide expanse of the galaxy. It may never come to fruition, he knew, but the thought of it happening was enough to get Garrus' ass in gear and help him to complete the application process.

It was probably also a good thing that he got off the Normandy. Liara was getting more than slightly irritated at the friendship that Garrus and Shepard shared, probably viewing it as something that could threaten the romantic one that she still wished to pursue with Shepard. It had been tense at times, especially when Liara would look for Shepard and come down to find her with Garrus, both laughing so hard that they couldn't breathe. Shepard, too enthralled with the conversation she would be having with Garrus, would opt to totally ignore Liara's presence...

Oh yes, it wasn't hard to recall _that_ angry glare.

Then when Shepard made Garrus promise to come back while hugging him in front of everyone…well, at least the tension was gone. He could be thankful for that.

More as a joke than anything, Garrus wrote down "Williams, Ashley" as one of his references. Sure, they started to get along towards the end, but she still wasn't too thrilled about aliens, especially turians. Right above her name was Shepard's, and he briefly considered if he should add Liara's. It never hurt to throw out a few heavy-hitting names like that when applying for Spectre status, right?

He tried to think of some more names that would help him out and considered writing down Joker's. Granted, the two of them had barely talked, but it's not as if Garrus had a lot of people to choose from. The people at C-Sec were ones that, at the best of times, he barely tolerated. Then again, half of the people he knew from C-Sec died during the invasion.

He made a mental memo to try and feel sorry for them later. He didn't have the time right now.

"Notable accomplishments?" He tapped a pen against his mandible, thinking hard. _Well, there was that one time I shot Saren in the head right after he nearly destroyed the Citadel. Or that time when we hunted down Saleon – that was good. Then we discovered the fate of the Protheans and helped stop the geth and discovered the Reapers existed…_

His omni-tool buzzed to let him know that a call was coming in. He answered the call while he started to scribble down notes about their hunt for Saren. "Vakarian speaking."

"Vakarian, this is Captain Anderson, Alliance. Meet me at the Docking Bay at C-Sec Academy, ASAP. Understood?"

 _What the hell…?_ "Understood, Captain." He knew when orders were not to be questioned. This sounded like one of those times.

He didn't know what was so urgent, but he knew that Anderson was one of the people Shepard seemed to answer to on the Normandy even though she had been freed from the shackles of the Alliance. If he were calling him down to the Docking Bay then it would almost certainly have something to do with Shepard.

It wasn't her birthday, was it?

His pen dropped from his hands and he bolted out the door, jogging from his temporary apartment to the C-Sec academy nearby. The journey on the elevator seemed to take forever, making him miss the usual banter that he had grown accustomed to while with Shepard. It was always trivial, but it helped pass the time well enough.

The doors opened to reveal Anderson standing next to the door of a large ship, helping people get out. Many of them seemed banged up, scratched and bruised. Several of them had tears in their wild eyes. None of them looked at Garrus.

He studied the scene in front of them and, slowly but surely, he began to recognize many of the people that came out from behind the door. He didn't know their names, but he had seen them so often on the _Normandy_ that their faces had been etched into his brain. One worked in the mess hall, another down in engineering; a third was Chakwas' assistant…

Faces that he could put names to appeared now. Chakwas first, who seemed frail and old all of a sudden. Liara was next, stumbling out from behind the doors while looking like a zombie. Williams and Joker were the next ones out, the former helping the latter by heaving him down a large step. Both seemed drained and exhausted – Williams had heavy bags under reddened eyes; her face sporting a painful-looking burn.

After them, though…

Nobody else came out after them.

Garrus waited and waited, but nobody came.

Where was Tanaka, Gladstone, Crosby? Where was Pressly? Garrus looked around but couldn't find their faces among the crew. A third sweeping glance confirmed that Shepard wasn't among these lost-looking souls. She wasn't trying to cheer Liara up with god-awful jokes, she wasn't comparing crewmates with Ashley, not having a contest with Joker to see who could be the biggest ass...

Williams was leaning against the railing of the docking bay with her head buried in one hand. Joker was toying around with the bridge of his cap, dragging it lower and lower to cover his already shadow-ridden face. Liara could do little more than stand there and appear like a husk to all who saw her.

She must have felt Garrus' gaze, for she looked up and met his eyes with her own. Garrus felt the weight behind that stare, felt the sorrow and the pain, and he knew what she was going to say, knew without a shadow of a doubt what had happened.

She approached him, her face becoming more and more contorted with grief as she drew near. A few more steps later and she collapsed into Garrus' arms. At first he hoped this display was from weariness but he felt the shaking of her shoulders and heard her quiet sobs…

 _No, no, no, no, no…._

He didn't know what to do other than wrap an arm around Liara's shoulders to comfort her, even though he was beginning to feel the hard blow of reality striking him across the face.

Williams and Joker saw him, too, and perhaps out of obligation they came to him. Ashley took off her helmet as she approached, her fingers fumbling through her hair while her cheeks puffed out in frustration. Nobody said anything at first; everyone stood around and tried to avoid the weighty gaze of the other. He tried to be calm, to control the wild emotions within him, but he was losing his grasp. He had to speak.

"Where is she? Where's Shepard? What happened?"

The question made Liara bury her head deeper into Garrus' chest, made Joker look away, made Ashley's eyes leak. Nobody moved, nothing could be heard except the cries of those remaining and the shuffling of the ones trying to leave everything behind.

Without warning Ashley swore, threw her helmet over the railing with everything that was inside her. She watched it fall, saw it tumble through space before she closed her eyes, her mouth moving in a silent prayer. Without saying anything to Garrus, Ashley turned and stormed out of the docking bay to the elevator. Garrus didn't stop her: the tears in her eyes were reason enough for her to leave.

Joker was still fumbling with his hat when he stepped forward. "She came back for me," he said quietly, no longer the rambunctious pilot that Garrus recalled so clearly. "We were attacked. I don't know by what, but we were attacked and we didn't stand a chance. She came back for me, dragged my crippled ass to an escape pod. I got in, but…" he turned away, leaning against the rail, his eyes distant as he called upon his memories. "The Commander got spaced. I watched her enter the atmosphere from the pod. Nobody could have survived that."

Garrus didn't know what to say, how to react. He had been shocked into silence, into an unwilling paralysis, and could do nothing to escape it. In one fell swoop he had lost the source of so many fond memories, lost his future livelihood, and lost his best friend. There was nobody cheering him on anymore, nobody left that understood his frustrations with the universe like she did.

The Destructive Duo would never be. He would never be able to silently laugh with Commander-Fuckin'-Shepard at Liara's misplaced jealousy. He'd never get the chance to ask her about the many odd quirks humans possessed. Never again would he get to go on the ship and sit comfortably with his dearest friend.

He would never get to speak to Shepard and thank her for everything she had done for him.

The silence pressed on.

All Garrus could do was steady himself against the trembling asari before him and try to make sense of the universe.


	20. Heroes and Ghosts

It was hard to count how many times he had envisioned his death while on Omega.

It wasn't that he had a death wish; no, that wasn't it at all. It was more like he had no idea what was going to happen, but he couldn't see a future where he got out of this alive. He was a damn good shot, sure, but that meant little when you were being pitted against the three toughest gangs on Omega for days on end, surviving only because he had a case full of stims at his sides and the image of his men, dead, burned into his mind. He knew this show couldn't go on forever – he would eventually run low on bullets or get shot or they'd use their brains and use the lower passages to surround him. Something would happen, and when it did Garrus wouldn't have any escape. He would die, but it would be a good death – no, a _glorious_ death.

A damn sight better than the death Shepard got to face, anyway.

The very thought dragged him into action, helped him to line up his next shot and put a bullet through some young mercenary's brain. The kid couldn't have been older than seventeen, but it mattered little. He had every intention of killing Garrus and the turian wasn't about to flop over because a kid wanted to be a hero.

 _A hero._

The decent folk who still remained on Omega viewed him and his men as heroes. It was weird hearing their praise for him, hearing the nickname "Archangel" being passed around like he was in an old vid. His work with Shepard and Saren made him out to be a good guy who helped save everything that existed, but this was the first time where he had been referred to as an actual _hero._

For some reason, it infuriated him.

Something as simple as shooting some bad guys in the head and screwing over the gang bosses made him a hero in the eyes of the people, yet these same people had no idea who Commander Shepard was or what she had done for this universe. Those who did know of her had little to say: she was either the woman who saved the Council from the geth invasion or the woman who got off by putting nukes on planets and watching them explode from afar. Nobody understood that she saved the whole damn universe from the Reapers, and the few who knew the whole story were trying to pass it off as insane ramblings by an even more insane woman.

She had done everything possible to make sure this worthless expanse of space was saved. She had put any chances of a normal life behind when she agreed to become a Spectre; she lay aside any opportunity to get a good night's sleep when she learned the truth about the Reapers. He remembered how she would pace the empty hallways of the Normandy at night, dark bags under her eyes, while she tried to think of ways to defeat an enemy that was supposed to be immortal. She had sacrificed the lives of her crewmates and that of her lover to ensure that the job would get done properly, something that she never forgave herself for despite the bravado that suggested otherwise.

And then she sacrificed her own life to try and save her helmsman.

But her name wasn't one that would be uttered in awe. Nobody except the scattered remains of her crew would be there to honor her grave in the years to come, because they were the only ones who gave a damn about the truth.

Garrus realized that, soon enough, that crew would be minus one turian. One less person to give a shit about her – and that person was the one who knew her best.

She deserved better than that. All of existence should still be grieving, not just him and a small smattering of others.

 _Another shot taken, another man down._

Even now he did everything because of her. On the Citadel he listened as council and common man alike destroyed the name of Shepard, destroyed her reputation, and made light of everything that she had fought so hard for. Sure, they were grateful that Saren was stopped, but in most people's eyes Saren was nothing more than a rogue Spectre that was trying to get the geth to follow him: they understood nothing of the real threat that was behind it all. He had tried to argue and fight back, tried to clear Shepard's name so she could rest in peace and be honored by all, but nobody would have it. It ruined his chances to be a Spectre, though he cared nothing about the Council by that point, and it made a career in C-Sec anything but appealing.

So he packed his bags and moved to the one planet where you didn't need permission and paperwork to kill someone for the greater good.

He knew that Shepard wouldn't have approved of his choice in some ways – she probably would have said that the people of Omega deserved to be pissed on for deciding to move and stay there – but she would have been proud that he pursued that which he felt called to do.

She would have been thrilled to learn how successful he had been at it, too.

He envisioned that crooked smirk and her devilish eyes, could imagine the hint of madness that danced within her irises, and he felt an ache in his heart for the friendship that he so greatly missed.

 _No time for this,_ he chastised himself gruffly, trying to banish the pain that arose whenever he thought of her. He took up his position in the window and lined up his sights again, aiming at the kid that had been shooting at him from behind that barrier for the last four hours. He never came out of cover far enough for Garrus to get a good shot on him, but maybe he could get his hands…

Another small group threw themselves out of cover and charged towards the door. Garrus sighed and immediately altered his objectives, aiming at the one furthest in charge. A typical merc, dressed like someone in the Blue Suns.

 _Blue Suns armor. Weak points beneath the arm and at the neck. Some feature structural weakness at the waist…_

Another bullet released. _Bingo._

He looked to see where the other four had darted off to and saw one still hovering behind cover. Couldn't get to him now, so he looked for the rest.

 _Why were they just standing there?_

He zoomed in further; saw a woman with her hands on her hips while she surveyed the corpses on the battlefield. He couldn't see much behind the visor that she wore, but there was definitely a grin on her face.

A very familiar grin.

"Ah, crap." Hallucinations again. This wasn't the first time they happened, and this wasn't the first time he saw _her_. Garrus stuck a stim into his neck and released the energy into his bloodstream before checking on the girl again. He always felt bad when he shot the ghosts of Shepard but…

No. Something definitely wasn't right.

Instead of charging forward like all the other mercs, this Shepard look-alike took a rifle into her arms and walked quite casually over to where the fourth merc was hidden. She didn't greet him or anything; instead, she slapped the back of his head with the butt of her rifle. He collapsed at her feet and she seemed utterly satisfied by the results.

 _No way._

This girl, this Shepard wannabe, strode with confidence towards the far end of the walkway, where Garrus was. Not entirely sure yet what to think, he jammed a couple of concussive rounds into his sniper rifle and shot them off rapidly towards the mirage. They bounced off her armor and did nothing to harm her, but it didn't stop her from turning her head upwards and lifting a finger in defiance. "You son-of-a-bitch! If that dinged up my armor, your ass is on the line!"

A jumble of emotions ran over him all at once. Relief, confusion, joy, rage. It could have been from the exhaustion or it could have been that this hallucination was so real that he didn't even care if it came to kill him.

Then he wondered if maybe it wasn't a hallucination, if maybe it was a real person, if it could have been Shepard. Could it be? It seemed to be. Nobody is that calm on a battlefield when bullets are flying all around them. Nobody goes and slams in the back of somebody's head just for the hell of it when they're supposed to be on the same team. Nobody gets that angry about dinged up armor unless…

Damn it all, it was her, wasn't it?

But she was dead! _Dead_! Joker said he watched her die, watched the Normandy go down. There had been no reports of her survival. Dead isn't a condition that you can recover from!

What the hell was going on?

The door slid open behind him. From the corner of his eyes he saw three people slide in – three humans, with the one in front being the Shepard lookalike. Three guns pointed in his direction for a fraction of a second, making Garrus wonder if his own weakness had brought him to the end of the line, but as soon as the fake Shepard lowered her weapon the others followed.

"You owe me at least five hundred credits for my armor. It's probably nearer to fifty thousand credits, but I'm feeling pretty damn generous right now."

It was Shepard's voice that rang out. He had no idea what to think or what to say just then, so he motioned for them to wait so he could take out somebody creeping up along the walkway. All of his actions after that were slow and deliberate while he tried to make up his mind on how to act, how to be.

He slid his helmet off and took a seat to steady himself. He hesitated a moment, glanced over at the now helmetless, copper-haired woman that stood in front of him. He had seen the thunderclap of realization strike her as soon as his helmet had been removed, seen the tumultuous waves of emotion pass over her face, and watched as she charged towards him.

He didn't know what to expect. When he felt her throw her arms around him, he was as shocked as the other two members of her party. He didn't even have time to reciprocate before she pulled away and swatted him on the shoulder. "I was beginning to miss the sight of your ass on the _Normandy._ I had to elect Jacob's ass as the finest on board, but I guess yours can be reinstated."

There wasn't any doubt now.

"Shepard," he said, his voice quiet. His mind hadn't really processed her reappearance, not yet. "I…thought you were dead."

Shepard's eyes dropped, her mouth unhinged, but there was an awkward silence that stretched between them for a time. He didn't know what to say and, by the looks of things, she didn't either.

Finally he saw some resolve slap sense into her. She stood straight, her shoulders thrown back and her head high. "Hell was a little too boring for me." The faintest trace of a smile was on her lips. "What are you doing here, Garrus?"

Avoiding the discussion about herself and going right to business. This was certainly the Shepard he remembered.

He went over the long and short of it, explaining in as few words as possible the predicament they were in and how they could escape it. Shepard nodded at his summary, her eyes slightly unfocused, and went over to the edge of the balcony while he spoke so she could keep an eye on the field of battle. Garrus joined her, standing at her side in silence. It felt…nice to be able to be next to her like this again, despite the bizarre circumstances surrounding her arrival.

"How did you let yourself get in this position?" Her voice was quiet and rang with reproach. Spirits, why did that bother him so much?

"I let my feelings get in the way of my better judgment," he said while staring straight ahead. He made a deal with her to tell her everything if they got out of this alive, to which she agreed with a short nod. "And I think I could do with some filling-in, too," he added.

Without asking she took his rifle from him and shot a droid that was ambling down the walkway. She passed it back to him with a satisfied grunt. "Sounds like a date to me."

* * *

Ringing filled his ears. A ringing so loud that it made his head want to explode. He didn't know the source, couldn't make it stop, and he felt his head throb from the pain of it.

Warm liquid spread around him and the heat did a small bit of good to ease the pain he felt in his head. He noticed that it was seeping close to his mouth and that it tasted strongly of some metal that he couldn't quite name. He noticed that he was starting to feel cold despite the heat. Pain, the likes of which he had never felt before, suddenly threatened to knock him unconscious.

He struggled to see, to try and figure out where he was and what happened, but his eyes weren't responding. All he could view was blackness, as black and deep as the dark matter of space.

He wondered if this was similar to the darkness that Shepard had seen before she died.

As he thought of Shepard he heard the unmistakable sounds of bullets being shot at an exemplary pace and a bellow of anger that would have made a Reaper turn tail and run. Bullets and explosions surrounded him, the cursing of a woman he admired and two others that he didn't know roused him from his near-comatose state. He struggled to stay with it, to get up and help, to make sure Shepard didn't die because of his mistake and lust for revenge. He tried, but he could not get up.

Then he felt a hand, so blissfully warm compared to him, touch his neck. Somewhere a voice called for him to stay, to come back. He tried to reassure her that he'd never leave, not while there was still a fight going on, but all that came out was a gurgle that must have been alarming.

"I need you Vakarian. I need you for this." The words floated to him through a hazy mist, one that was growing increasingly more powerful. She continued to talk but her words were no longer making any sense, sounded like mumbled gibberish or a space monkey howling or something.

He stopped listening. He was feeling sleepy, but this time he wouldn't reach for the stims even if he was able to.

He could rest now. He was in good hands.


	21. Waking Up

He woke up feeling like a geth armature had been learning how to tango on his face.

The lights above him danced wildly in his blurred vision, and though he kept squinting to try and make everything come into focus, the fixtures were still little more than bright blobs above him. Fists clenched when a burst of pain greeted his waking; teeth grit together while he tried to keep a moan of pain withheld. That action alone doubled the agony he felt, but still he managed to do what was expected and put on a brave face. He pressed his back against the cold steel bed he had been placed in, pushed the flats of his feet against it, too, and inhaled air in a fast hiss until the pain subsided.

He wasn't exactly sure where he was or how he had gotten there. Memories, though faint and unorganized, swam through his head: there were some recollections of a fiery redhead charging at him, not stopping until he was wrapped in a fierce hug that was borderline desperate. There was a lot of shooting, a lot of bullets clanging, and an explosion that had knocked him off his feet…

Two fingers nervously inched towards his face and he was only partially surprised to feel the soft give of cotton bandages instead of hard skin. Not wanting to press too hard, his fingers gently roved the expanse of his face, assessing the damage and feeling exceptionally disheartened when he realized the entire lower half of that side was shit.

He closed his eyes and swore under his breath – that was as much pity as he could allow himself. A brief second passed before his eyes opened again, but this time his vision was a little clearer. A quick glance around helped him to understand he was in a medical bay, possibly on a ship or maybe somewhere on Omega that he wasn't familiar with. As his gaze landed on an open cabinet stocked to the brim with medical supplies, he figured that it couldn't have been anywhere on Omega – nobody there had a cabinet with that many expensive supplies in it.

So, if he wasn't on Omega, where was he?

Another glance around and he thought he saw some symbols that were fashioned in a way that was strangely familiar. Human writing, perhaps? He held up his omni-tool to take a scan so it could be translated but, before he could, the doors to the med bay hissed open. Reflex born from days on end of fighting had him reaching for his rifle.

"Shepard warned me about that," a familiar voice chuckled. Garrus blinked, and then Chakwas came into view. "She said you might grab your gun first chance that you got. I'm glad I took her advice into consideration." At that she nodded her head behind Garrus, and at her urging he looked and saw his rifle tucked into the far corner. "Welcome aboard the _SR-2_ , Garrus Vakarian."

His attention sidled back to the doctor that he hadn't seen in two years. The last time he'd seen her, she was a frail woman walking out of a rescue vessel, wearing a uniform that was ripped and singed at the edges. Now she was out of the Alliance uniform and in one that was colored black, white, and gray. Though her stance was still rigid and proud, he couldn't help but notice that she'd aged more than the two years they had been separated.

"Doctor Chakwas," Garrus nodded his head in greeting. Though the unfamiliarity of the ship was making him nervous, the fact that there was a familiar face on board helped take the edge off of his nerves. "I…have to admit, I'm not sure what's going on."

She smiled patiently and took a seat at the edge of the line of beds. Wrinkled hands folded over themselves. "I can imagine," she replied. A moment passed and she shook her head a little. "I'll let Shepard answer all your questions for you, Garrus. I think she'd rather tell you everything, anyway. All you need to know right now is that you're on so many drugs that you don't realize how severe your wounds actually are. You need to stay and rest."

Garrus was already standing up out of bed. Sure, things were kinda wobbly and there was a moment where he thought he might throw up, but there were a thousand questions that needed to be answered _right now_. Resting and healing took a backseat.

"I need to go, Doctor."

"I can, and will, lock the doors, Garrus." She smiled, but there was a touch of the devil in her eyes. "Sit down and rest."

He sat back down on the edge of his seat, but he knew he wasn't going to stay there for long. "Shepard's been dead for two years," he began quietly. "Then, just as my luck was starting to run out, she came back from the grave and saved my life. If she'd have been twenty minutes later, I probably would have been a goner." His eyes locked on to the doctor's, and for a moment he was struck by how much more animated a human's eyes were than a turian's. He could see from the twitch of her eyebrows and the dulling of her gaze that she was deep into some troubling thought. "I need to go talk to her."

"You'll regret it in thirty minutes, I assure you." Both sets of eyes were still locked on each other, challenging the other to back down. It was a battle that Garrus had never lost to anyone other than Shepard, and this old doctor wasn't about to be the second to claim that victory. Finally she heaved a sigh and shook her head. "It's your choice. I won't force you to stay here." As soon as the words slipped past her mouth, Garrus shot up and strode towards the door. "Just know that you won't be getting any more pain medication for the remainder of the day because of this."

He saw her grin as he walked past.

He followed signs around until he reached the elevator, then stole a glance at the small map of the ship that was right next to the call button. Again his eyes fell on those familiar human letters, but this time Garrus was able to recall where he'd seen them before: on the original _Normandy_. Chakwas had said this was the _SR_ - _2,_ which meant someone with deep pockets had recreated the stealth ship and granted it to Shepard for use. The map confirmed that the layout was fairly similar, but he still wasn't entirely sure where Shepard was going to be.

 _Might as well start with the CIC._

Minutes later he arrived to the main hub of the ship and chanced a glance around it. It was…strangely quiet here, with a skeleton of a crew wearing completely unfamiliar uniforms. A few of them stole a glance at Garrus, but most avoided him completely. He had no idea what the hell was going on. Either the Alliance suddenly changed their uniforms, or somebody else was running this ship.

His eyes fell on the uniform of a nearby redhead, noting the strange symbol on her chest. It sparked a memory within him, unpleasant ones, and he felt his confusion double.

"If you are looking for Shepard, she is in the Briefing and Communications Room with Mister Taylor." It was a woman's voice, cool and precise, that spoke. He wasn't sure where it came from. His eyes flickered up to the face of the woman whose uniform had been studying, saw that she was looking back at him with her head cocked, and figured it might have been her.

"Thanks," he said uncertainly, rubbing his neck. For a moment she looked confused, too, but then she giggled and pointed to the side, to a sign that pointed him in the right direction. He mumbled a second "thank you" and turned down the next hallway, not stopping until he heard a man's voice mention Garrus' name and the damage he had taken.

He looked at the sign outside the door. Shepard should be in here.

He took a breath and stepped inside. The doors slid open to reveal Shepard listening to the news being delivered with one of her hands rubbing the frizz that made up her hair. She looked exhausted and grim.

"Shepard," Garrus said, stopping in his tracks to take in the sight of her. He still couldn't believe she was alive, and part of him wondered if this was a type of heaven he'd never heard of. Being on the _Normandy_ again with the infamous Commander at the helm…isn't this what he'd been dreaming of?

Shepard's wild eyes flew to him. The weight of her gaze was as heavy as ever, even while she straightened herself, her stance, and threw her shoulders back. He could see she was trying her damnedest to hide the stupid smile that was trying to take over her face, trying to save face in front of one of her crew members, and she was failing miserably.

"Nobody would give me a mirror," he said lightly, relishing the fact that her face split open into a grin as soon as he spoke. "How bad is it?"

"Hard to say," she said slowly, biting her lip as she examined him. He saw the spark in her eyes, the spark that he had seen so often, so long ago. "But there's a mirror on the ceiling in my bedroom we can use to examine you…"

He laughed his first true laugh in two years. It hurt like hell.


	22. Air Quotes

"Don't do it, Shepard. We need them on our side, not against us."

His hand hooked around her arm, holding her back and reminding her to stay cool. Tali had been utterly oblivious to Shepard's growing rage and had not thought to restrain her at all, but Garrus was always quick when it came to the Commander. He had seen the pasted-on smirk, the clenched fist behind her back with white knuckles, the thinning of her lips, and he knew that hell was about to break loose.

Normally he would have been all too happy to watch her throw herself into a verbal war with the Councilors. He missed the old days, and it would have been a fond reminder of much more carefree times. Now, though, they were desperate for allies and he was pretty sure that pissing the Council off wasn't the way to go.

She still stared at the Turian flickering on a small stage, her eyes little more than slits of anger. "He air-quoted me, Garrus!" She leaned sideways and hissed into his ear. "He's only got two fucking fingers and he used them to air-quote me!"

"He's always been an idiot. Frankly, I don't know why you expected anything different."

"I guess I expected them to get a clue after a Reaper flew up their scaly asses a couple years ago." She looked towards the highest-ranking politicians in the universe and sneered. "Damn it all. It's your fault, you know. You're the goddamned idiot who wanted them alive."

"I regret my decision every day, believe me."

"I can easily erase your regret with one damn bullet into each of their skulls."

"Then I'd feel guilty, since you'd be the most wanted man in the universe, and I don't like feeling guil-."

"I'm a fucking _woman_."

He snickered to himself. "I hear you're good at it."

She paused, her mouth slightly ajar. "What?"

He turned his head to face forward, hiding his smirk, while Shepard furrowed her brows as she thought over the conversation that just transpired. As she contemplated, the Councilors finished up their conversation with Udina and bid him farewell. It didn't escape Garrus' attention that they said nothing to the steaming redhead at his side.

Then Shepard blinked, looked up, and saw that the holograph of the three politicians had disappeared. She had missed her chance at revenge. "Damn it all, Garrus!"

He barely managed to contain his grin.


	23. Discomfort

"So," the old mercenary drawled as soon as the doors to Garrus' lair quietly opened, "I hear you, Shepard, and the krogan all had a party down on Tuchanka without me?"

Garrus chuckled and pressed a few more buttons into the terminal before him. "I'm surprised it took that long for you to hear about it. It's been three whole hours since we got back."

Zaeed's laugh reminded Garrus of tumbling rocks. "To be honest, I'm surprised, too." He took a seat on the cot propped up in the corner glanced at Garrus' rifle. "You really took down a thresher maw?"

A pointed look in Zaeed's direction made the old merc laugh a second time. "It's Shepard. Of course we took down a thresher maw." He finished his work and turned to face to scarred old man, crossing his arms over his chest as he did so. "I'm pretty sure that, if there's an official transcript out there that records all of this, they're going to have to censor everything she said, too."

"Damn. That I would have liked to have seen."

Though he really wanted to comment on how it was much better than the first time they'd fought a thresher maw, Garrus settled with a small shrug. "I'm sure there's a video of it somewhere. I can try asking Wrex about it. You'd think the krogan would record these things."

Zaeed stroked his chin. "You know what else you should see if he has a recording of?"

"Sorry, but I'm not going to ask him about krogan mating rituals."

More sounds that reminded him of a rockslide, all gravely and low and rough. "I'd just ask Mordin if I was curious about that." Zaeed shook his head and readjusted himself. "No, a little bird told me that the commander head-butted a goddamn krogan. And I missed it."

The mere mention of the memory sent an uncomfortable sensation through Garrus. "Yeah," he said, forcing a laugh, "you did." He purposefully turned away to look back at the blank screen he had been working on earlier. "It was probably one of the greatest Shepard moments to date." He waited a minute until those unsettling feelings passed before attempting to compose himself, before telling Zaeed about the events that had led up to the one in question.

Grunt was Shepard's baby and everyone knew it. She had cooed at him while he was in the tank, squealed in joy when she forced him out of it, laughed in delight when he charged her at his birth and threatened to kill her, and lovingly described how she wanted to help him learn what it meant to be krogan even while she pressed a gun into his side. She was the only mother he would ever know, and she took her title seriously. Nearly everywhere she went, he would go as well – which meant Garrus saw a hell of a lot of the little tyke, as she so fondly referred to the half-ton wrecking ball that giggled every time he saw a rocket launcher. So, when he started displaying unusual symptoms and mentioned them to Shepard, she made a beeline towards the ones who would have an answer – the krogan.

The moment they stepped off the ship she made a path towards the center of the clan hall on Tuchanka, and when she stepped out into the wide opening and squinted towards the makeshift chair in the center she fist-pumped in glee.

Wrex nearly did the same.

After a lot of reminiscing on good times, they had been directed upstairs, towards the shaman, who told them all about how krogans step into adulthood and learn to focus their bloodlust. Honestly, it sounded like a lot of bull to Garrus, but then again every turian became an adult the moment they were fully enlisted into the military. This was probably the closest thing the krogan had to that…

His mind had drifted off while the shaman was speaking about ancient rituals and the hardships the krogan had to endure, but he was snapped suddenly back to reality when some krogan stomped up and challenged Shepard and the shaman.

Shepard's nostrils flared and her eyes sparked as soon as she sensed someone doubting her authority, but she knew she had to keep her gun holstered. This was not her fight to win, she knew– but she still let a few scathing words loose; words that the shaman seemed all too delighted to hear. In fact, if Garrus were to guess, the spiritual leader of clan Urdnot probably wanted to make Shepard an honorary krogan.

The needlessly-hostile Uvenk was still spewing insults despite Shepard's growing agitation. Then the fatal words were uttered: "Everything about Grunt is a lie!"

That was it. Nobody insulted Shepard's half-ton baby and got away with it.

He doubted she planned it. Being with the krogan for the past twenty minutes had resonated strongly with her, though: she probably felt the chords of belonging being struck as soon as she stepped off the ship. She was more in-tune with the krogan now than she had ever been with any other species, and it showed by the way she, without hesitation, threw her head forward and smashed it into the skull of the alien that was ten times her weight and a solid two feet taller than her.

"She was a natural at being a krogan, Zaeed," Garrus finished, shaking his head in silent wonder. "A natural. I've never seen anything like it. Even their shaman was impressed." Of course, Garrus didn't mention the fact that he had been more turned on in that moment than he had ever been before. That needed to remain a secret – from everyone.


	24. About That Beer I Owe Ya

Garrus had never seen so much food in his life.

There were piles of it all around him: desserts that he had never heard of, fruits and vegetables that looked totally alien, cardboard boxes filled with stuff called 'cereal', chocolates, crackers…almost anything that Shepard considered a 'snack' was within arm's reach from anywhere within his sanctuary.

For now his artillery room had been converted into a buffet where he and Shepard could finally get together and have that talk that they had promised each other when they first reunited. While she had managed to find out everything that had been going on with him over the past two years, had forced him to tell her about Sidonis and even managed to talk him out of killing the bastard, he was still entirely in the dark on what had happened with her. Sure, he knew she had died, but for how long was still a mystery, as was the circumstances surrounding her reconstruction.

So, after hounding her for the past week, he had finally convinced her to come and let it all out. She came bearing gifts, she said, but Garrus had to wonder if she forgot about their dextro-levo differences. It certainly seemed that way.

She was watching him with an amused expression as he looked over all the food she had offered. "What's wrong, Vakarian?"

Well, damn. She knew after all. He could tell by the stupid lilt in her voice.

When she saw that he wasn't going to take the bait she could only sigh and fold her legs in towards her body. "It's mostly for you. I have no idea what half this shit is, but according to the merchant it should be compatible with your system. I even found some that we can both eat. Don't ask how," she added after picking up one plump, purple fruit, "because I didn't understand any of the crap he was saying. I don't know if I should trust him, either: he was an unfriendly little batarian. Probably wants me dead and this was the best method to get it done."

"This must have cost a fortune…"

"It did. The Illusive Man wasn't too happy about the grand new expense on his tab. Actually, I should say Miranda was ticked off on his behalf." A grin spread like a virus. "Seeing how angry she was made it totally worth the twenty-five hours of bitching I got in return."

 _Jack probably had front row seats to that show._

He asked her to point out the items they could share and, after a lot of hesitation on her part, she pointed out a few things that looked exotic and not at all naturally grown. He scanned it with his omni-tool and got information that confirmed it was suitable for both of them to consume and so, without further ado, Garrus picked it up and tried to maneuver the human-made knife so he could cut it.

She was watching him struggle with the utensil, biting her lip to keep her sarcasm at bay. "I don't know how turians survived past the stone age," she finally said, unable to hold back any longer. He suspected this was a kinder version of whatever else she had going on in her mind. She took the fruit and knife away without asking and deftly cut the remaining slices off. "There are certain advantages to having four fingers and a thumb, you kn—well, no, I guess you wouldn't know." She shrugged and handed him a flimsy plate with a small serving of food on it.

This cycle continued for nearly everything they tried: for those things that it was okay for them to share, he would wait for her to serve it, which she seemed pleased to do. She would attempt to eat some items that were solely for Garrus, like the chocolate, but he had to protest against that for the sake of her own health. She took that as a challenge, of course, and ate it anyway. He could only laugh when she threw it back up minutes later.

She returned, face pale and her hands shaking. Though she didn't look well at all, she demanded more food so she could replace what she lost. He obeyed her orders and handed her yet another small platter that was filled to the brim.

A tingling sensation ran through his hand when her fingers lightly grazed over his as she took the food offered. She seemed to think nothing of it – she kept shoving things into that awkward mouth of hers – but he couldn't dispel the feeling of it even after a few moments had passed; a flutter in the pit of his stomach, one that he hadn't felt in some time; one that he wasn't at all pleased to be feeling again.

She was oblivious to his distress. She was chatting animatedly about different things that they had encountered on their various journeys, from the stupid tactics of random mercenary groups to Kasumi's infatuation with Jacob and Kelly's intense interest in Samara and Thane. She dwelled on Thane a bit longer, explaining that she could understand why Kelly would find him interesting, but the idea of an inflatable throat was a bit weird and have you felt his scales? They felt just like a snake's skin – she used to have a pet snake when she was younger, but then some kid that she knew thought it would be cool to try and make a belt out of it, but when she found out what happened she shattered his knee…

From there he coaxed her into talking more of her childhood, of her past. She hesitated at his prompt, not sure if she could continue, but after reaching past him to grab some alcohol – an action that forced her to balance herself on his shoulder, sending another spark through him – she poured herself a glass and continued on.

The fast pace of her talking was gone. Each word was slow and deliberate, each sentence carefully crafted. She wanted to whet his curiosity without giving too much away, without letting him know too much about the troubled past that she seemed so ashamed of. After each tale her eyes would flicker towards him, awaiting his reaction, and she would judge for herself where to go from there.

It was…nerve-wracking. He felt like one wrong move, one wrong nod or phrase on his part would scare her away from the topic. He wanted to learn more about her; he didn't want her to flee from him as she had so often before. This was the first chance he'd ever had of learning about his commander and he feared it could be his last if he screwed up.

A slow dance started, one where each one took a calculated, robotic step while still trying to come across as natural and pleasant. Though each knew what the other was doing, there was no way to try and stop the tension that had settled between them. They were unable to relax in the company of the other; doing so could result in a fatal mistake that might scare their partner away.

Still, though, Garrus was making progress. The lead was wrestled from her gently; each question of his was pruned to perfection. His responses were well timed and honest, though still managing to be polite enough to egg her further into a conversation. Each inquiry dug a little deeper, further towards the carefully sealed memories that he knew resided in that labyrinth-like mind of hers.

A picture began to form before long. It was largely unfinished – a rough draft of the final version, but it was more of an image than he had before. She told tales of dirty children on the streets, lawless souls who did as they pleased because it was the only thing they knew how to do. There were no supervising adults to watch over her and guide her through life: the only people she had were her peers that she had brought together herself, ones that respected her so much that she was easily able to abuse the authority she claimed she had. She'd heedlessly sent some into battles that could not be won, purposefully put others into harm's way for disagreeing with her, and, worse of all to her, had hurt them for petty jealousy or harmless mistakes. She ruled her gang with an iron fist but, despite it all, she was still everyone's idol - a title that she loathed to have and refused to give up at the time.

Her life then and the life she chose seemed like total opposites. One world was filled with entropic chaos while the other was unquestioning order and discipline, a turian-like lifestyle. The transition seemed more likely to have been a forced one, but according to her it was something she had wanted for a long time before joining up with the Alliance. The constant fight for survival, the fear of the police that had her and her gang running endlessly, her hungry belly, wanting to start anew, and the number of friends that had turned up missing were only part of the reason why she had given up her old life. Brief mention of Anderson had been made, too, making him wonder if he had more to do with her conversion than she was letting on.

She broke off the conversation about her past as she reached for the almost-empty bottle of alcohol at her side. "You're the only turian that makes any sense," she said suddenly, lifting a paper cup of wine to her lips. "All the others are either batshit insane or utterly idiotic. Like your councilor, for example. Or Pallin. Or Saren." Her eyes narrowed at the mention of Saren; a habit she had yet to break. "But especially your councilor. Goddamned idiot."

He breathed a quiet breath of relief, thankful for the reprieve. "Those are special exceptions to our race—"

"So turians give the stupid ones the high-powered political stations?"

"We have to get them off Palaven somehow."

She tilted her head and chewed on the inside of her cheek as she thought about his answer. "That…makes a lot of sense, actually."

They smiled at each other and stepped away from their dance, deciding that now was an appropriate time for a longer break. They joked and laughed, made fun of everything in the universe that wasn't themselves, and then tried to get a rise out of each other by prodding with insults. Both were too easy-going to really get angry, but each was capable of feigning offense long enough to keep things fun.

Time rushed past them without either one noticing. One glance at his clock and he saw that a few hours had passed despite it only seeming like a quarter of that. He chose not to comment on it, as it might make Shepard decide to leave. That couldn't happen quite yet, not when he hadn't yet gotten down to the reason why they had come together in the first place. How to broach the matter of her death was another matter entirely.

He pondered about that as she told him some story of a fistfight she watched a krogan and turian get into and then, towards the end of her tale, he decided he was being dumb. This was Shepard: she was renowned for being tactless. Maybe he should take a leaf from her book yet again.

"So," he began, drawing out the vowel as the other words formed in his head. "I heard you died?"

She shifted a bit, though if it was due to the discomfort of the floor or the conversation was anybody's guess. "Yeah, I heard that. Heard I was gone for a couple years, too. I was enjoying my peace and quiet, but it seems like the galaxy can't get enough of me. Not that I blame them, of course."

"How long were you…?"

"Most of those two years, I think. I woke up on an operating table when a bunch of mechs were trying to kill me. Met Jacob and some other guy, the other guy was killed by Miranda when we escaped the station because he was a traitor, I met the Illusive Man and got Joker and the _Normandy_ back, then made tracks for Omega all in the same day." She smiled distantly at the mention of Omega. "I didn't know that you were Archangel, you know. I missed the old crew and wanted them back, but TIM told me that wasn't possible. When I saw that Archangel was a turian, I couldn't help myself." A bold grin, winning and handsome, met his eyes. "Archangel was the first person I got for a reason. Even Zaeed had to stand in line behind you, and we all know how I feel about that old bastard."

"I'm honored, Shepard."

"You damn well better be." She took a sip of her wine. "Because Zaeed won't let it drop to this day."


	25. Afraid

It was late night. They were both drunk. Garrus was lying on the floor next to his cot while he watched Shepard sway her arms above her, conducting an orchestra that didn't exist in his reality. At one point she had been telling a story, but that had been long ago. Now she was lost in the song that only she could hear as she directed the musicians that only she could see.

He smiled at the sight.

Somehow she had found her way to his bed and claimed it as her own. Her head rested on his pillow, her body was being warmed by his blanket, and her hands roamed over the sheets that his skin had touched. It was a thought that was probably only romantic to a drunk, and right now he had a good bit of alcohol in his system.

Her hands ceased in midair and fell back to her sides. "I was afraid, you know."

Garrus thought of a lot of moments when he had been scared. The last time was about an hour ago when he said the red on her uniform clashed with her hair. She didn't take that too well.

That did not, however, answer the question of what she had been scared about, so he made sure to ask about it.

No answer greeted him for some time. He wondered if she didn't hear him and was about to restate the question when a quiet voice floated to him. "When I was spaced. I was damn near terrified."

The thought was sobering, dramatically so. He remembered hearing the news of her being dead and recalled imagining what she must have felt like floating through dark space on her own. Two years without her had left a deep scar on his soul that was hard to forget, even when intoxicated. "Tell me about it."

She rolled over to peer over the edge of the metal frame of the bed; her hair stuck up at odd angles around the crown of her head. She looked at him, confused and lost, and he resisted the urge to reach up and stroke her cheek in comfort. "I couldn't think of anything that made sense. Not at first. I saw the stars, the planets, and they were so close that I felt like the queen of the universe, like it was all mine." She looked away, towards the pile of food that still remained, and her brow crinkled in memory. "But then the shock faded when I saw the gauges on my suit drop. Saw the air pressure plummet, oxygen levels being depleted, and I felt the crack in my suit. The air was being forced out of me and I couldn't breathe but I was still trying to. I thought my limbs were going to snap off. It was freezing."

"I remember trying to cover the hole because my mind was shit and I thought that I could stop the air from escaping. Pieces of the _Normandy_ were falling all around me and I remember hoping that Joker and the others made it out because, if they didn't, my ghost would piss on their graves." Her face lit in amusement before fading to dark again. "I remember the moment when I realized I was going to die."

Again her eyes returned to him, vacant orbs that revealed nothing. "There weren't any memories. I didn't see my life flash before my eyes. No light at the end of the tunnel, no sudden flooding of knowledge. I just thought about the future, about everything I was going to miss: the Reapers were coming and nobody knew it, there was this strange ship that attacked us, I would never meet Ashley's sisters or meet Kaidan's father to give him Kaidan's medals." She smiled distantly. "I'd never get to beat the galaxy's ass into shape with Spectre Vakarian…

"Then I remember the heat of the atmosphere burning through my suit. I remember the weight crushing down on me. I remember the last thing I saw was the galaxy of stars that was at my fingertips. It all looked so peaceful to me, so different from the life I was used to…and I remember looking forward to what was waiting for me on the other side.

"I stopped fighting, stopped struggling. My skin was burning, my bones were being crushed, I couldn't breathe, and I didn't care. I was tired, I wanted to rest. Not even the pain of death could frighten me, not when I wanted a break so badly."

She stopped, a jumble of emotions running across her face before she settled on showing a self-deprecating smile. "For awhile after I came back I thought I was fearless. I mean, after all, I faced the unknown and won against it in the end. I didn't think anything could get to me anymore, figured I had nerves of steel." Her hand came down to him and carefully touched his scarred face with padded fingertips. "I was pretty damn stupid for thinking that."


	26. An Extended Barrel

Things were different after that night.

He didn't want to say that she was going out of her way to avoid him, but some days it certainly seemed as if that was the case. She was always a busy woman but, ever since their half-drunken conversation that lasted hours, she had rarely come around the Battery to visit him. Though she still would take her favorite turian out on missions, there was a discord between them, a lack of synchronization that hadn't been there since they first started working together two years before. They knew each other, knew how the other fought, and yet he found that she was surprising him in ways that were unsettling.

He, too, had been caught doing stupidly stupid things from time to time. She was well equipped to take care of herself in battle and yet, on some occasions, he'd throw himself out of cover and make himself the most immediate threat instead of her, just to ensure that the bullets wouldn't fly her way. Each time he did it he got an earful from the Commander and an empty threat that she'd never take him out again, an act that she could never bring herself to follow through with.

Seeing that, for once, the famous Commander Shepard wasn't going through with her word was enough to make most of the crew talk. Kasumi and Kelly were, of course, the worst culprits and would often run around to various parts of the ship to spread their rumors and suspicions. If Garrus ever caught one of them he was quick to intervene in whatever conversation was going on as a sort of damage control.

Joker was cracking jokes about whether or not swallowing would cause a reaction, which was one that totally went over Garrus' head until EDI explained it to him. When he realized the direction the joke was going in, and how obvious it was now that it had been clarified, Garrus had been too embarrassed to show his face for nearly seven hours. He skipped lunch and dinner and wasn't even too keen on the idea of going to visit Liara on her fancy new spaceship.

Then, of course, the Commander waltzed in with a tray of decent food and thrust it into his hands, demanding that he eat it. She turned to leave but stopped at the door, a strange smile on her face. Her eyes sparkled when she looked back to him, a sure sign that she thought something to be terribly funny. "By the way: it doesn't cause a reaction for everyone. Especially not me."

He choked on the spoon in his mouth, went to ask her how she knew that for sure, but he was too late: the door was already closing.

Sexual comments from her had been the norm since he had joined this ship, but now they seemed to be taking on a new flavor. Before he had only seen it as friendly banter that threatened to cross the line, but now it heated up his insides and sent vivid imagery into his head. He didn't really know what to imagine, to be honest, but his mind tried to fill in the blanks and, on occasion, it succeeded in being arousing.

That did not help matters at all, though. Once such imaginings started taking place, he realized that he was trying to apply them to the real Shepard. He'd sit there while they were being dropped off planetside and try to imagine what Shepard would look and feel like without all that armor. He wondered if human women were hot or cold, soft or firm, or if there was even a way for a turian to get inside of one.

She'd catch him sizing her up at times, saw the glazed-over eyes and dumb expression that he wore, and she would always ask him what the hell was going on.

"Just imagining the best way of getting in." The upturned brow, the snort that she tried to hold back, told him that he'd done a piss-poor job of covering for himself. "Damn it, Shepard, I meant into the compound! It'll-"

"Garrus, you should probably stop while you're still ahead." Tali chimed in, the belittling tone in her voice hard to miss. "Or, next thing you know, you'll be talking about an extended barrel that you want to give her when we return to the ship."

"Or how he likes to savor the last shot before popping the heat sink," Shepard mentioned in an undertone that Garrus only barely caught.

Spirits, he hated her.


	27. More

_They shared a trepid kiss, timid and uncertain, inexperienced and embarrassed._

She hadn't asked him to come. She hadn't asked to relieve any tension and he hadn't regaled any stories about sex with other turian hand-to-hand specialists. Not once did she request his presence in her room, nor did she mention anything about her stress levels being absurdly high.

Despite all that Garrus still found himself standing in front of the door to her cabin with a bottle of wine in his hands. Granted, alcohol probably wasn't the best option considering what lay ahead but he knew it helped her to relax. Right now she needed that, and she needed a friend to rely on. Even though things had been off between them, he could still act his part when he was needed.

 _Though his skin was hardly sensitive, he could still feel her unmistakably soft lips press against his scars, the slight moisture her touch left on him, the heat that coursed through her body when the two of them pressed together._

More than a few people had given him strange looks when he marched from the gun battery with a bottle of wine and a determined look on his face. Hell, he hadn't intended for anything to go beyond a friendly conversation, but apparently everybody else thought his intentions were elsewhere. Kasumi saw him, stopped in her tracks, gave Garrus a once over, cried "Oh my God!" and squealed with delight when she saw him enter the elevator and press the button for Shepard's level.

Then there was the added agony of seeing the elevator go _down_ instead of up, having Zaeed enter the elevator with him, and then stopping again at the third and second floors so other people could board. Most chose not to when they saw the look of extreme agitation that Garrus bore.

Zaeed was a different story. As soon as the elevator door opened to the CIC he made to step out, but stopped long enough to turn and eye the bottle and Garrus. "I don't know how that's possible," he said with a slightly disgusted look on his face. "And I don't know if I should ask Mordin and satisfy my curiosity or go drown myself in a few bottles to try and get this goddamn image out of my head."

 _His hand settled into the curve of her neck, pulling her closer, closer to him. He was afraid she would leave, that this moment would end and everything would be ruined. Once she realized what he was, that he wasn't human, surely she'd be gone…_

 _And yet she opened her eyes and looked upon him with such intensity that it would have been impossible for her to miss the obvious. She accepted him, returned to him, melted into him._

He debated for a few minutes if he should even bother her now. She was probably preparing or writing messages to old friends, somebody like Anderson, in case things went wrong. More than likely she wanted to be alone so she could visualize how everything would play out and try to plan for the unexpected. She usually hated company before a mission. Why should this be any different?

Maybe he should turn around and join Zaeed, share the wine with him instead. The old bastard would appreciate it and Shepard would appreciate the silence. Besides, things were still awkward with them and he'd probably just make a fool of himself anyway.

 _Her hands pressed against his chest, slowly pushing him backwards, towards the bed, as she simultaneously began undoing the buttons of his shirt. He marveled at her many fingers and how dexterous they were, he wondered how dexterous she'd be in a few more minutes, and then he stumbled down the two steps that were in her room._

 _As an automatic defense he moved to rub his neck, but she wouldn't let him. Her strength was inhuman when she grabbed his arms and shoved him backwards, into the downy softness of her bed. He sank into it, a little startled, and watched as Shepard reached behind her, unzipped her dress, and tugged the garment off her._

He left the wine at her door and went back to the elevator, pressing the button for the second level. He had given up, sure, but it was for the greater good. An annoyed Shepard was a very terrifying thing: add an ungodly amount of stress into the mix and you had a demon on your hands.

Kasumi, however, intercepted Garrus as soon as he stepped off the platform of the elevator. It didn't escape him that she had been chatting with Kelly, and he was positive he didn't want to know what it was about. Goto cornered him, demanding answers, and when he said he had only left the wine as a present he had nearly been slapped by an outraged thief.

Now he wasn't so sure which was worse – an annoyed Shepard or an insurmountably disappointed Kasumi. Thinking that he didn't want a flashbang shoved up his ass, he retreated to the elevator and returned to the top floor before the kleptomaniac could take advantage of the fear that she struck into his bones.

 _His eyes roved down her body, trying to memorize each alien curve that lay bare before him. Her form was much like an asari's but her muscles were more defined. Her skin tone was another obvious difference, as well as the wild hair that rose up in defiance on the crown of her head. Still, though, she seemed much softer than any species, far more likely to be killed by a sharp object than any turian, and probably more susceptible to things like radiation or…_

 _A worried look passed over his face as he considered the mission that lay ahead and the dangers it posed. She was tough, but seeing her like this – without her protective gear and mostly naked - he couldn't help but realize how frail her species really was._

 _She saw his concern and drew near to him, sitting on the bed at his side, her attempts at seduction momentarily forgotten. He shook his head and glanced away, embarrassed yet again though this time because his expression had made her uncertain if she should continue._

 _Neither one said anything at first. The atmosphere was becoming tenser as each second passed by. He considered explaining his thoughts and fears, how he worried about her and what would happen once they passed through the relay, how he didn't want a repeat of the previous two years, but he couldn't bring himself to voice it. She didn't need to worry about that sort of thing right now and the thought of something like that happening again was terrifying._

When he returned to the top level he was a little stupefied by the lack of a wine bottle at the front door. He stood there, staring uncertainly at the now-empty spot that his alcohol had been residing only moments before, and didn't know what to do next. The wine was his only way in and now that it was gone…

The door slid open and revealed Shepard garbed to the nines in a dress that he was positive he'd never seen before. She held Garrus' bottle in one hand and arched a brow at him, her smirk already spreading like a wildfire. In her other hand she held a couple of wine glasses. Without saying anything she tilted her head back, indicating that he should follow her inside. He did, and the door slid shut behind him.

EDI was active right inside the doorway and, upon Garrus' entrance, Shepard dismissed the AI. "She told me you had been here. I got her to get Kasumi all over your ass, too."

She busied herself in the corner of her room while Garrus stood awkwardly by the door, trying to explain his reasoning for coming. He made his intentions known, let her be aware that this was just a friendly visit to see if she was okay.

For a few moments nothing was said. She looked hard at the glasses, still empty, and fiddled with them as she thought. Not looking up, she asked him what he would think if she wanted his visit to be more than just a friendly one.

He didn't answer. Their eyes met.

 _A warm and gentle caress met his jaw, urging Garrus to send his gaze towards Shepard. As he did, his senses were filled with the essence of_ her _. Sight took in her shivering, body; her scent carried tinges of sweat that mingled in with an earthy sweetness that was foreign to him. His nerves tingled beneath the heat of her touch. Her breathing was deep and steady and…_

 _Again she pressed her mouth to his. All his worries soon vanished when her weight pressed down upon him, pushing him back down into the bed that they both currently shared. It didn't take long for him to get lost in her again, in her tenderness that seemed entirely unlike her._

He wanted to tell her how scared he was of screwing everything up between them, that he valued her and her friendship more than anything in the world, that he wanted this – _them_ – to happen so badly that it made his head hurt. She should know that she didn't have to do this with him, that he knew Jacob would be perfectly willing to help her relieve some tension if she needed it, and that Garrus would be there for her no matter what.

He tried to say it all, especially that last bit, but as soon as he tried to form the words his vocal cords seized up. His body was refusing to allow him to say what needed to be said, probably because it badly wanted what he was trying to refuse. Then there was the idea of Jacob being tangled together in a bed with Shepard instead of him and his jealousy rose to a maddening level.

A glance to the side, to avoid her penetrating gaze. "I don't want to ruin us," he said quietly. "I don't want things to end badly, like everything else does."

Not once did her eyes waver, nor did the strength of her voice falter despite her low volume. "We're already ruined, Garrus." The thought rang true in his mind, a fact that he didn't want to accept. "We're both broken. We can't go back to just being friends."

 _For many minutes the only movement was her hands following the unfamiliar lines of his chest, following the twists and turns that delighted and fascinated her beyond compare. He had no doubt that she was used to human men, so the idea that he was something new and exciting was not hard to imagine. He didn't know what ran through her head, but for him he felt like the king of the universe. It made no sense, but he didn't care._

 _Then it was his turn to explore her, to see her and feel her for the first time. Long fingers touched short tendrils of hair, snuck down past her face and into her neck. As he passed over her neck he noticed her inhale deeper than normal, a sure sign of a sensitive spot. He grinned to himself and turned his hand loose on her chest, breasts, stomach…_

 _Everything was so damn soft that it blew his mind. How could someone so strong be so inherently weak? In his mind Shepard had always been indestructible. She had survived the impossible countless times, taken bullets and other injuries that barely fazed her when they would have put a normal man in a grave. Even the depths of death couldn't hold her. She was the spirit of war, was she not?_

 _If that was so, then how could her body be so easy to destroy? It was worrying, terribly so._

 _As if sensing his growing concern, she grabbed his face into her hands and pulled it to her own. He was lost in a burning kiss and, soon after, her body conformed to his and it was all too easy to bury himself into her._

Garrus still couldn't meet her eyes, not when he knew he would betray himself and his wants. "Shepard…"

"Do you still only go for turian women?"

He was surprised by this question, so much so that his attention snapped back to her. A sad smile, soft and understanding, graced her face and made Garrus want to explain the world away. He couldn't leave her thinking that he wasn't interested, not when the exact opposite was true.

But, then again, it was an easy out.

He shook his head. He couldn't lie, not to her. "No, that's not it. I'm…interested in humans. No, not that. I'm interested in you, but not because you're human. It's just that you're you, and I respect that, which is why I don't want—"

Three steps. That was all it took for her to cross the distance between them. "You're not the only one who's afraid, Garrus. Out of all the people I've met in this damned galaxy, you're the only one who stuck with me through hell and high water no matter what the situation was. You never judged me for any of my decisions, never questioned my allegiance when I joined Cerberus, never wondered if I was something other than what I claimed I was. I don't want to lose your friendship, but I'm not about to go into some suicide mission without letting you know that I care about you in a way that I probably shouldn't."

He could already feel her warmth from here. His resolve faded with the coldness that he had experienced earlier and soon he could think of nothing but her and how badly he wanted them to be together. "I know the feeling," he said with a quiet chuckle, the thick air dissipating fast. "My father's going to kill me."

 _Whatever awkwardness he had been expecting never arose. Everything he had was given to Shepard in one glorious moment that neither of them would forget._

His hand rose and touched her shoulder, stroked her arm. Her own hand lifted and touched his scars. The slim distance between them lessened as their heads drew near to each other.

They shared a trepid kiss, timid and uncertain, inexperienced and embarrassed.


End file.
